


I Hate Your Big Dumb Combat Boots

by crackdkettle



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackdkettle/pseuds/crackdkettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Forget it,” says Maria. “Everyone knows the Fury brothers aren’t allowed to date.”</i>
</p><p>Wherein Phil Coulson tricks Loki Odinson into paying Bucky Barnes to date that weird, uptight, goody-two-shoes Steve Fury so that Phil can have a chance with Steve’s hot younger brother Clint. And then things get complicated.</p><p>OR the <i>10 Things I Hate About You</i> Stucky AU nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, are you the new kid?”

Phil Coulson looks up and finds himself face to face with a tall, dark-haired girl wearing dark slacks, a blue blouse, and a blazer.

“I didn’t think Shield had uniforms,” he says stupidly.

“Says the guy wearing a sweater-vest,” says the girl. She looks unimpressed, but there’s no malice in her voice, which Phil thinks is probably a good sign. “You’re Phil, right?”

“Phil Coulson,” says Phil, extending his hand.

“Maria Hill,” says Maria, not shaking it. “Put that away. This is high school, not the Harvard admissions board.”

She turns and starts down the hall without waiting to see if he’ll follow.

“Right,” says Phil, running to catch up with her. “Sorry, you’d think I’d be better at this. This is my third high school in three years.”

“Yeah,” says Maria. She pushes open a pair of double doors and leads him out into the quad. “But to be fair, Shield isn’t exactly a normal high school. I mean, sure, you have your army of dumb jocks, led by golden boy quarterback Thor Odinson and his faithful halfback Sif Sylvan.”

Maria gestures to group of people clustered around a blond guy who looks like – and the stupid thing is that this isn’t an exaggeration – a greek god. Not really Phil’s type, but he can’t say he doesn’t see the appeal. Beside Thor is the most intimidating girl Phil has ever seen.

“Sif is the only jock with any sense, and she’s deadly, so stay out of her way,” Maria warns. “Now unlike other high schools, Shield doesn’t just worship the jocks. There’s also the science nerds.”

“The science nerds,” Phil repeats skeptically.

“Thirty seconds in Tony Stark’s general vicinity and you’ll understand, trust me” says Maria. “But he’s probably off in a lab with his friends blowing something up. My friend Pepper is Tony’s girlfriend, so you’ll meet him later.”

“So you’re popular?” Phil is surprised. Popular kids never agree to show the new kid around.

Maria laughs.

“Not at all,” she says. “Not that it matters. I’m just here to get straight A’s and move on to a better future. Anyway, next you have your angry hipsters.” She nods to a table with four occupants: one looks thoughtful, and another just sad, but two look like homicidal maniacs. “Their leader is Loki Odinson, Thor’s younger brother.”

Maria points at one of the homicidal maniacs, a pale kid with dark hair. He’s the only one not wearing glasses, but in all other ways is pretty much the opposite of his brother.

“Loki’s goal in life is to completely reject Thor’s golden boy image by being everything he’s not,” Maria continues. “He’s dangerous and unstable. Avoid him and his minions at all costs.”

“Noted,” says Phil.

“And then we have –”

But Phil isn’t listening anymore, because walking across the quad is the most gorgeous guy he has ever seen.

He’s got piercing blue eyes, dark blond hair, and a smile that outshines the sun. He’s wearing low-slung jeans and a black tank-top – which Phil would normally consider tacky, but in this case he appreciates getting an unobstructed view of bulging biceps that lead down to perfectly defined forearms.

“Who is that?” Phil murmurs.

“What?” Maria follows his gaze and groans. “Oh lord. That is Clint Fury, and it is never gonna happen, Coulson.”

Phil’s heart sinks. He suddenly notices Clint is surrounded entirely by girls.

“Is he –”

“Oh, he’s gay as they come,” says Maria easily. “Single, too.”

“Then I just –”

“And entirely, completely, one-hundred percent out of your league,” says Maria firmly.

Phil is offended. He’s no Thor Odinson, but he’s not hideous. Maria is seriously underestimating his chances.

“I’m sure I could –” he tries again.

“Forget it,” says Maria. “Everyone knows the Fury brothers aren’t allowed to date.”

Oh.

_Ohhhhh._

“So if he _were_ allowed –”

“Let it go, Coulson,” says Maria.

“Sure,” Phil says. He steals another look at Clint, who’s laughing at something one of his friends just said.

 _Not likely,_ Phil thinks.

\-----

Phil doesn’t see Clint or Maria again until lunch.

“How’s your first day?” Maria asks, joining him in the lunch line.

“Fine,” says Phil. It is fine. It’s a pretty typical first day, even if arriving in the middle of the school year sucks.

“Come sit with me,” says Maria. “I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

Phil joins her at a table with two other girls, a redhead and a brunette, who are dressed just as sensibly as Maria.

“Phil, this is Pepper and Betty,” says Maria, pointing at the redhead and brunette in turn. “Phil is the new guy.”

“The one drooling over Clint?” Pepper asks.

Phil shoots Maria a look, but she looks unfazed.

“One and only,” she says.

“Listen, Phil,” Pepper starts, but she’s interrupted by a deafening clatter.

“She said _no_!”

Phil turns around to see a tall, broad-shouldered blond guy standing practically nose to nose with Loki. Standing up, Loki is taller and more intimidating than Phil’s original impression of him, but the blond guy is equally (if not more) intimidating, and doesn’t look like he’s about to back down. Behind him, a tiny girl who’s probably a freshman seems to be doing her best to become invisible.

“And it’s _one_ pudding cup per student,” the blond guy adds. He snatches a pudding cup off of Loki’s tray and hands it to the girl, who looks like she wants to sink through the floor. Then he strides out of the cafeteria without looking back.

“And that was the love of your life’s charming brother,” says Maria.

“That’s Clint’s brother?” says Phil.

“Defender of the rules and friend of very few,” says Maria.

“He stops Loki’s gang from terrorizing the freshmen,” says Betty. “It’s sweet.”

“He also tries to stop Tony and Bruce from blowing themselves up,” Pepper adds. “Which is nice.”

“So he’s hot and doesn’t like bullies,” Phil summarizes. “Why doesn’t he have friends?”

“He just doesn’t really fit in,” says Maria. “Spent too much time with adults growing up, you know?”

Phil has an idea of what that’s like, yes.

“And any time anyone does something they shouldn’t, he reports it,” Maria adds. “So good luck trying to sneak around with Clint, Coulson. Steve will catch you in five seconds and tell his dad, and you do not want to be on that man’s bad side.”

“Why?” Phil asks. No matter how bad his dad is, Phil’s pretty sure Clint is worth it.

“Their dad is Nick Fury,” says Betty, as though Phil should know who that is. “ _The mayor._ ”

“I just moved here,” says Phil, shrugging. In his last town he didn’t even know the mayor’s name, but this is clearly one of those cities where the mayor actually matters for some reason, so he doesn’t mention that.

“He’s terrifying,” says Pepper, though she sounds more matter-of-fact than scared. “He married their mom when Clint was just a baby. She died in an accident a couple years later, and Fury’s been crazy overprotective of the boys ever since. The only reason he lets Clint do archery is because it’s not a contact sport.”

“Clint does archery?” asks Phil, distracted.

“Youngest team captain in Shield history,” says Maria, rolling her eyes.

That explains the perfect arms, then.

“It’s not just their mom, though,” says Betty. “Steve was sick all the time when he was a kid. He almost died like five times.”

“Steve?” Phil repeats. “The guy who just stormed out of here? Almost died?”

“The wonders of puberty,” says Maria.

“The point is, between Fury and Steve, you won’t get within ten feet of Clint,” says Pepper.

“No guy ever has,” Betty adds.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Phil says.

Maria pats his head.

\-----

“You’re late.” Nick lowers his newspaper – because Nick is, of course, one of the last twenty people in the world who still reads a physical newspaper – and narrows his good eye at Clint. Steve’s tried dozens of times over the years to get Nick to get a glass eye, but Nick prefers an uncomfortable-looking strap-on eyepatch.

(“People don’t fuck with people with eyepatches,” Nick once told him.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘fuck’ in front of kids,” said Steve.)

In the doorway, Clint is hastily rearranging his expression into what he thinks is his _charming face_ , and what Steve thinks of as his _high-and-possibly-brainwashed face_.

“I was working on a school project with Jane,” says Clint. “Did you not get my text?”

“I did,” says Nick. “It also said you would be home in time for dinner.”

“Okay, Dad, I’m like twenty minutes late,” says Clint. “Chill.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Nick carefully folds his newspaper in half, sets it on the table, and rises.

“You want me to ‘ _chill_ ’?” he says quietly.

“That’s not what I meant,” says Clint quickly. He glances at Steve, who gives him a _you’re-on-your-own-man_ look.

“Who, exactly, drove you to Jane’s?” Nick asks.

Clint mumbles something incoherent.

“Lmfphs?” Nick mimics. “Is that a boy?”

“Yes, Dad, it was a boy!” Clint snaps. “Believe it or not, sometimes I interact with guys who aren’t Steve, Sam, and you! I’m a _fucking_ teenager!”

“Do not use that language in front of me,” says Nick, which Steve can’t help thinking is kind of hypocritical.

“Look,” says Clint, “I am sorry Mom died and Steve’s an asthmatic miracle, I really am, but I am sick of not getting to have a normal teenage life because you’re terrified I’ll hold hands with someone and spontaneously combust!”

“Clint –” Steve starts.

“I am the _only_ person at school who has never been on a date!” Clint continues over him.

“Your brother has never been on a date,” says Nick. “And you don’t hear him complaining about it every two hours.”

“That’s because Steve is a socially-awkward freak who is incapable of normal human interaction except with his _one_ friend!” says Clint.

Steve elects to ignore that.

“Why on earth would I want to date in high school?” he says instead. “It’s a waste of time and energy. No one meets the love of their life in high school. There are so many more important things you could be focused on.”

“See? Your brother gets it,” says Nick.

“You ever hear of high school sweethearts?” says Clint.

“You ever hear of statistics?” Steve shoots back.

“That’s it. I am tired of having the same goddamned conversation every twenty minutes,” says Nick. “New rule! Clint can date.”

“What?” Steve demands, while Clint fist-pumps. This is so typical: Clint is a disrespectful asshole and he _still_ gets everything he wants.

“Thanks, Dad, you won’t –”

“When Steve does,” Nick adds.

Clint looks horrified.

“No, I take it back!” he cries. “I want the old rule, I don’t mind waiting until graduation!”

“Too late,” says Nick. “New rule in effect as of ten seconds ago.”

“But, Dad, what if Steve _never_ dates?” says Clint.

“Then I guess _you’ll_ never date,” says Nick.

Clint whirls on Steve.

“This is all your fault! Why do you have to be such a socially-awkward loser!”

“I’m not socially-awkward.” Steve is getting angry.

“You’re ruining my life!” Clint howls.

“Enough!” Nick shouts. “Clint, go to your room.”

“I wasn’t even –”

“Save it!” Nick snaps. “I have a meeting to prepare for because I am an adult and have actual responsibilities, so go tweet all your twit friends about how I am ruining your life and let me earn the money that pays for all that high-tech archery equipment you love.”

“Argh! You are both so totally _unhinged_!” Clint yells, stomping up the stairs.

“You’ll thank me one day,” Nick calls back.

Steve seriously doubts that.

Clint’s door slams shut.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh my god, this is so perfect!” says Darcy.

Clint is sitting at a table in the quad with her, Natasha, and Jane in between first and second period.

“I’m sorry,” says Clint. “What about this situation screams _perfect_ to you?”

“Now you can date!” says Darcy.

“Yes,” says Clint. “ _When Steve does._ ”

“So all you have to do is find someone to date Steve,” says Darcy. “Problem solved!”

“Oh, okay,” says Clint sarcastically.

“I’ll do it,” says Tony, swinging himself onto the bench across from Natasha. “Maya told me what’s up,” he adds, when they all look questioningly at him.

“That was _fast_ ,” says Darcy. “God, I love high school!”

Natasha narrows her eyes at Tony.

“Aren’t you forgetting about someone?” she says.

“Pepper will understand I’m helping out a friend,” says Tony. “She’ll be cool with it.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” says Natasha.

“While I appreciate your unwavering determination to get into my brother’s pants,” says Clint, shuddering, “Steve will never agree to date you.”

“You are seriously underestimating my charm, little Fury,” says Tony, winking.

“No, I’m estimating it pretty accurately,” says Clint. “And you know I hate it when you call me that.”

Tony just smirks.

“Oh, what about Sif!” says Darcy.

“Steve has a few parts Sif’s not really into,” says Jane. “I’ve told you that like twenty-five times.”

“Seriously?” says Darcy. “Why am I not hitting that then?”

“You’ve asked me that twenty-five times,” says Jane.

“That brings up a good point, though,” says Tony. “Should we be looking for guys or girls? Little Fury, what team does big bro play for?”

“Switch hitter,” says Natasha immediately.

“Ew, Nat, how do you even know that?” says Clint. “And, Stark, why are you a part of this?”

“My dad says I’m not challenging myself enough,” says Tony, shrugging.

“I already told you my brother won’t date you,” says Clint.

“Thor!” cries Darcy, who clearly hasn’t been listening to the conversation. “Everybody wants to date Thor!”

“ _I’m_ dating Thor,” says Jane, frowning.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” says Darcy. “Just let Steve borrow him.”

“My boyfriend is not a male escort,” says Jane.

“Money doesn’t have to change hands,” says Darcy. “This is for Clint, remember? Be a good friend!”

“Pimping out my boyfriend–”

“It’s not _pimping out_ –”

But the rest of Jane and Darcy’s argument is, thankfully, drowned out by the warning bell.

“I’ve got your back, little Fury,” says Tony, clapping Clint on the shoulder before disappearing into the sea of other students.

“How reassuring,” Clint mutters.

\-----

“Great news, Coulson,” says Maria, setting down her lunch tray next to his and sliding smoothly beside him on the bench. “Word on the street is your crush got his dating ban lifted.”

“Really?” says Phil warily. This has to be a joke. The universe is not this kind.

“There is one tiny catch,” Maria adds.

There it is.

“His brother has to date first.”

Wait.

“That’s it?” says Phil. He can’t believe his luck. “Great, problem solved!”

“Did you not hear me?” says Maria. “You have to get Steve Fury to agree to go on a date. _After_ , of course, someone agrees to date _him_.”

“We’re talking about the hunky blond from yesterday, right?” says Phil. “I’m pretty sure people will be lining up for a chance with him.”

Maria closes her eyes as if praying for patience.

“You’re new,” she says. “Trust me, the only person crazy enough to try to date Steve is Tony Stark. And a) he’s taken, and b) we already know Steve will never date him.”

But Phil isn’t about to let Maria’s objections deter him. Twenty-four hours ago he discovered perfection in human form really does exist, and now Clint Fury is actually within reach. Phil is not going to let a minor obstacle like some grumpy older brother hold him back now.

“So we just have to find – hey!”

A disheveled, hobo-looking kid in a gray hoodie has just wandered by their table and snatched the apple right off Phil’s tray.

“You can’t just take people’s food!” Phil shouts.

“Ignore him,” Maria sing-songs quietly.

The kid turns around. He’s smirking, but it’s not frightening the way Loki’s is.

“Sorry, man,” he says. “Trying to scare off the doc, you know?”

He takes an enormous bite out of the apple, winks at Phil, and is gone.

“What the hell?” Phil mutters.

“Don’t worry about him,” says Maria. “He’s… troubled. What teenager is eating apples for lunch anyway?”

“That’s not the point,” says Phil. What was he talking about before part of his lunch was stolen? Oh, right, getting Clint’s brother a date. “The point is, we just have to find someone crazier than Tony Stark.”

Maria laughs.

“Wow, Coulson, you know how to stay on point,” she says. “But aside from, I’m starting to think, _you_ , there is no one crazier than Tony Stark. Except possibly Loki, and that’s not an option either. Trust me, set your sights a little lower and let Clint Fury go.”

Yeah, that is absolutely not going to happen.

\-----

“I don’t get why you’re so upset,” Sam says for the fifteenth time.

Or rather, Sam gasps for the first time. Like Steve, Sam is on the track and field team, and like everyone else on the team, he doesn’t even try to keep up with Steve when they run laps. Steve’s just passed Sam for the third time.

“Because now Clint and his little gang are going to hound me until I agree to waste an evening with someone whose name I probably won’t even remember in five years,” says Steve, going against his better judgment and slowing so he and Sam can talk. Practice is nearly over anyway.

“Speaking of, you wanna grab dinner and a movie Friday night?” says Sam.

“Nice try,” says Steve.

“What’s wrong with helping the little dude out?” asks Sam.

“Well first of all, even if I wanted to, my dad is never going to believe that you and I are dating,” says Steve.

“ _Please!_ Your dad dreams of having me as a son-in-law,” says Sam.

“No, I’m pretty sure my dad dreams of me and Clint dying as ninety-year-old virgins,” says Steve.

“Okay, but I’d be the next-best thing,” says Sam.

“Sure,” says Steve. He sees Coach Phillips waving at them to come over to the benches and slows to a walk, pausing to let Sam fall into step beside him. “But I also happen to agree with him.”

“You want to die a ninety-year-old virgin?” says Sam.

“No, that’s a little extreme,” says Steve. “But I don’t want Clint running around spreading diseases like all the other idiots at this school.”

“So give him some condoms.”

“ _Sam!_ ”

Sam stops and turns to block Steve’s path.

“You realize you _sound_ ninety, right?” he says. “Clint just wants to go on a date, Steve. Nice dinner, a movie, maybe a light makeout session before heading home. It doesn’t mean he wants to be Tony Stark.”

“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t,” says Steve, stepping around Sam before Coach Phillips can start yelling at them. “He already spends way too much time with Loki.”

“Tony Stark eventually got his act together,” says Sam. “And Loki is the beloved younger brother of Clint’s lab partner’s boyfriend. I’m pretty sure them spending time together is inevitable.”

“That is exactly what I am afraid of,” says Steve.

Sam shakes his head.

“Dating doesn’t kill, Steve,” he says.

“Not everyone,” says Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind reviews and kudos! To clear up a couple things:
> 
> 1\. In this story, Sam is Steve’s best friend instead of Bucky, because Bucky would be pretty shitty if he took money to secretly try to seduce his best friend.
> 
> 2\. Steve’s reasons for not wanting to date are complicated, and will (hopefully) become clearer as the story progresses. (But lbr, the main reason he doesn’t want to date is because he hasn’t met Bucky yet.)
> 
> P.S. Fair warning: I will never update this quickly again.


	3. Chapter 3

“We need someone fearless,” says Maya.

Maya, Phil’s recently learned, is Pepper and Tony’s friend, though he gets the impression she’s more Tony’s friend than Pepper’s. Phil is sitting in Tony Stark’s living room, where Betty and Pepper dragged him after school, because for some reason everyone at Shield High is invested in getting Steve Rogers a date.

Just, you know, not enough to actually _date_ him.

“I’m fearless,” says Tony.

Okay, except Tony.

“Never gonna happen,” says Pepper for the third time.

Who, naturally, isn’t an option.

“Babe, I’m just trying to help out –” Tony waves his hand vaguely at Phil “– this guy,” he finishes, also for the third time.

“Phil,” says Phil. Again.

“Right,” says Tony.

“We’re all trying to help out Phil,” says Maria. “But you aren’t the solution because Steve will never, _ever_ date you, Stark.”

“We don’t know that,” says Tony.

“He literally said, ‘ _Stark, I will never, ever date you_ ’,” says Maya.

“Yeah, well Lily Evans said she’d never date James Potter,” says Tony. “And they ended up getting married and their kid saved the world!”

“So now you want to marry Steve and have a kid?” says Pepper. “I thought you just wanted to help out Phil.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” says Tony.

“Lily also went out with James after he deflated his head,” says Betty. “Just saying.”

“See, this is why I wanted Rhodey and Bruce to be part of this brainstorming session,” says Tony.

“Please! Rhodey would agree with us and you know it,” says Pepper.

“What about that hobo kid?” says Phil. They’ve already ruled out most girls, the entire football team, Tony and his friends, and all the angry hipsters. They may as well at least consider a “troubled” kid who unapologetically takes people’s apples.

“What hobo kid?” says Maya.

“We have hobos at our school?” asks Tony, distracted.

“No, the kid who took my apple,” says Phil.

Maria lets out a bark of laughter completely at odds with Phil’s image of her.

“Bucky Barnes?” she says.

“The Russian assassin?” says Tony.

“He’s not a Russian assassin,” says Pepper firmly. “I’ve told you to stop listening to Darcy.”

“Then how come he speaks Russian?” Tony shoots back.

“Speaking Russian doesn’t make you an assassin,” says Pepper. “Or a spy!” she adds, when Tony starts to respond.

“I’m sorry,” says Phil. “Who’s Darcy? Why is a Russian assassin in high school?”

“Because it’s the perfect cover,” says Tony.

“There are no Russian assassins at Shield High,” says Maria. “Or any assassins at Shield, for that matter.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” says Tony. Everyone ignores him.

“Darcy is a friend of ours,” Betty tells Phil. “Really more a friend of Clint’s. I bet she could introduce you.” She smiles kindly at him.

“Let’s take care of the Steve problem first,” says Maya.

“But not with Bucky Barnes,” says Maria.

“Why not?” asks Phil.

“Because Steve would never go for someone like Bucky,” says Maria. “He came to Shield a year ago and no one knows anything about him.”

“We know he’s trained to kill since birth,” says Tony.

“No we don’t,” says Maria. “And before you say it, we don’t know he’s spent time in juvie, either.”

“But that’s the rumor?” Phil asks.

“Yes,” Maria concedes, sighing.

“He’s perfect!” says Phil.

The other five stare at him.

“What?” says Maria finally.

“Steve’s all about the rules, right?” says Phil.

They nod.

“Troublingly so,” says Tony.

“And this Bucky kid randomly takes parts of people’s lunches,” Phil continues. “But he’s not malicious like, say, Loki.”

“I guess,” says Maria. “What’s your point?”

“He’s not a bully,” says Phil. “He’s just _troubled_. That makes him fixable.”

“Oh my god!” says Betty, and Phil knows she’s put it together.

“I’m missing something,” says Maria.

“There is nothing more irresistible to a good guy than a bad boy he can fix,” says Phil.

“Huh. That might actually work,” says Maria. “Good thinking, Coulson.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” says Tony. “Then why didn’t he go for me? I’m totally fixable!”

“You’re not really a bad boy,” says Maya. “You’re just… annoying. No offense, Pep.”

“None taken,” says Pepper, grinning.

“How was that offensive to _her_?” Tony demands.

“So how do we get Bucky to go after Steve?” says Phil loudly, before the conversation derails completely.

Betty smiles.

“Leave that to me,” she says.

\-----

Darcy likes missions.

She likes the angry hipsters a whole lot less, but hey, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or something.

Whatever. Clint needs her. That weird new kid Phil needs her. Steve needs her, even if he doesn’t know it.

She walks right up to the angry hipsters’ table and sits down between Loki and Justin.

“’Sup,” she says.

“What do you want?” says Loki, without looking at her.

It’s actually a pretty nice greeting, coming from Loki. Loki is generally nice to Darcy – which is to say, not outright hostile – because she’s Jane’s best friend and Loki genuinely likes Jane. And Clint. He still hates Natasha though.

Anyway, Darcy was selected for this mission so that Loki will continue to like Jane, since Jane is the one dating his brother and all.

“You know, Clint’s available now,” says Darcy. There’s no point beating around the bush here. They all know Loki’s been driving Jane home all year so he has an excuse to give Clint rides too.

“Only if his spineless oaf of a brother finds someone willing to endure his company for a whole evening,” says Loki, still not looking at her.

“Yeah, I think I can help with that,” says Darcy.

Loki finally looks up, laughing.

“You really think precious Steve Fury, defender of justice, will date _you_?” he asks. It’s the most malice he’s directed toward Darcy in a while, but she’s known him long enough to ignore it and stay on point.

“No,” she admits. “But I think I know who he will date.”

“Really?” Loki’s clearly going for mocking, but it’s impossible to miss the genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Bucky Barnes,” says Darcy.

Loki laughs again.

“Oh,” he says, when Darcy just raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re serious.”

“For the right price, that guy will do anything,” says Darcy. “I heard he once ate an entire aluminium can just because someone paid him twenty bucks.”

“Hardly an impressive feat,” says Schmidt dismissively. “Anyone can eat aluminium. I could eat an entire aluminium meal.”

“This isn’t about your abilities, Johann,” says Loki repressively. He narrows his eyes at Darcy. “What do you get out of this?”

“I just want my friends to be happy,” says Darcy.

“We’re not friends,” says Loki, which, okay yeah, that’s basically true.

“Fine, I want Clint to be happy,” Darcy amends. “If that’s with you…” She shrugs.

“I’ll consider it,” says Loki.

“All I’m asking,” says Darcy, standing. “I know Clint would be really grateful.”

“Don’t oversell it,” says Loki.

“Yep,” says Darcy and hightails it out of there.

\-----

“I have a proposal for you.”

Bucky peers around his locker door to see Loki Odinson leering at him. He sighs. Five more months. Just five more months and he can finally get out of this hellhole.

“I already bought Girl Scout cookies from the kid next door,” he says. “Sorry.”

He slams his locker shut and starts off down the hall.

Annoyingly, Loki follows him.

“There’s a boy I’m interested in,” he starts.

“Thanks, man, but you’re not really my type,” says Bucky.

“Not you, you imbecile,” Loki snaps.

Bucky whirls.

“What did you just call me?”

Loki, incredibly, looks chastened.

“Forgive me,” he says. “That was rude.”

“Whatever,” says Bucky. He starts walking again.

“When you say I’m not your type,” says Loki, falling into step with him, “are you uninterested because I’m male?”

_What?_

“Are you asking if I’m gay?” Bucky demands. “Because I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“There’s where you’re wrong,” says Loki. “You see, there’s this boy I’m interested in –”

Bucky flings out his arm, stopping Loki in his path.

“Look, man,” he says, turning on Loki again, “I don’t really give a fuck about your lovelife, so why don’t you just get to the point and tell me what you want from me?”

“I need you to take Steve Fury on a date,” says Loki.

“I – what?” Bucky’s seen Steve Fury around, of course – it’s impossible to miss those brilliant blue eyes flashing around the cafeteria. He thinks Steve might even be in his English class, but since Bucky ditches that half the time, he can’t be certain.

None of this explains why Loki is suddenly interested in playing matchmaker, though.

“I want to date Steve’s brother Clint,” Loki explains. “But I can’t do that until someone dates Steve.”

Now Bucky’s even more confused.

“Is Clint Fury the heroine of a Jane Austen novel? Why does his brother have to date before you can take him out?” he asks.

“His father is irrational,” says Loki.

“Clearly,” says Bucky. “So let me get this straight: you want me to take out some dude so you can bang his brother?”

“A vulgar but more or less accurate summation,” says Loki. “I will, of course, provide compensation for your trouble.”

“You know there are 900 numbers for this, right?” says Bucky.

“I’m merely asking you take him to dinner,” says Loki primly (and prim is a word Bucky never thought he would apply to Loki Odinson). “Whether you choose to engage in any carnal activities afterward is entirely your own affair.”

“Your pretentiousness makes me want to rip off your arm and beat you with it,” says Bucky. “How much?”

“Fifty dollars,” says Loki.

“For dinner?” Bucky laughs. “Two hundred.”

“Seventy-five.”

“One-fifty.”

“One hundred.”

“Yeah, okay,” says Bucky. “In advance, though. I don’t actually have a hundred dollars to spend on a date.”

“Fine,” says Loki. He pulls out a wallet and counts five twenties into Bucky’s palm (Bucky thinks he sees Thor’s picture on the driver’s license as Loki flips the wallet closed, but whatever, not his business). “But I expect results.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Bucky, tucking the bills into his back pocket and – _finally_ – heading off to class _alone_.

He just has to take out the hottest guy in school. How hard can it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story is so fun! Thank you to all of you for reading, and especially to those who've left kudos and reviews. I appreciate all of you!
> 
> In the next chapter, Steve/Bucky and Phil/Clint will actually interact!


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey.”

Steve – who is currently guzzling down water after just finishing a particularly punishing training session – turns to see the scruffy guy who sometimes shows up in his English class – what’s his name? Barney something? – standing _way too close_.

“Hey?” says Steve.

“Heeeeyyy,” says Sam, sidling up next to Steve and sounding way too enthusiastic about whatever’s happening here. Steve glares at him.

“Hey,” says the guy again. “What’s up?”

“Honestly, I’m sweating like a pig and smell worse,” says Steve. Sam elbows him in the ribs but Steve ignores him. “What’s up with you?”

The guy runs a hand through his unkempt hair.

“Aren’t you in my English class?” he says.

“I think so,” says Steve. “Barney, right?”

“Bucky,” says the guy. “Bucky Barnes.”

“Right, sorry,” says Steve. “Steve.”

“I know,” says Bucky.

And continues to just.

Stand there.

Sam is looking between Steve and Bucky, grinning like it’s his birthday and he’s just been given his dream gift. Sometimes Steve hates his life.

“Did you, uh, need the assignment or something?” asks Steve, when it becomes clear Bucky isn’t going to go away.

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go out Friday,” says Bucky.

Steve’s not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Sam starts coughing the hacking cough he uses to cover his laughter.

“Seriously?” says Steve. “You’re asking me right now? This –” he gestures up and down at his sweat-drenched body “– is what got your attention?”

“Well,” says Bucky, grinning, “I figure we’re gonna be sweaty together eventually.”

Sam actually chokes this time. He doubles over, coughing violently.

“I – that is just – oh my god!” Steve sputters. He can feel himself going redder than he already was from training. “That is _so_ – I just – _inappropriate_ – and I – oh my god – _go!_ Just go!”

Bucky backs away, holding up his hands and still grinning like an asshole.

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” he says, winking, and then he’s gone.

“Jerk,” Steve mutters.

Sam finally straightens up, tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t you say a word,” Steve warns him.

“I am so happy right now,” Sam gasps before he doubles over again, laughing.

Steve flips him off.

\-----

“I know it was you,” Steve snarls, the moment Clint walks through the door that evening.

“What are you talking about?” says Clint.

“You told Bucky to ask me out,” says Steve.

“Who the hell is – wait, Bucky the Russian assassin?” Clint looks intrigued.

“I don’t know,” says Steve. He’s a little thrown that Clint’s immediate reaction wasn’t vehement denial. “Probably? How many people do you know named Bucky?”

“How are you the only person at Shield who hasn’t heard of Bucky the Russian assassin?” Clint asks.

“Maybe because I’m the only person at Shield who actually cares about their education instead of clearly false gossip,” says Steve. “I’ve told you not to listen to everything Darcy tells you. Why would an assassin go to high school, Clint? Think it through.”

“Oh, that is so not –”

“And that’s not even the point.” Steve can’t get distracted by Darcy’s weird theories. “I did not appreciate being ambushed by some idiot after practice.”

“I didn’t tell anyone to ambush you, okay?” says Clint, and there’s the defensiveness Steve was expecting. “I’ve never even spoken to Bucky.”

“Good,” says Steve. “Because get this through your head, Clint: I’m not going to date for you.”

“What is your problem?” Clint yells. “Can’t you actually be my brother for five minutes and let me have a normal teenage life!”

“What is normal, Clint?” Steve demands. “Joyriding around with Loki when you’re supposed to be doing homework with Jane?”

“It’s none of your business what I do with Loki!” Clint shouts. “You’re not Dad!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to look out for you,” says Steve.

“What is all this yelling about?” Nick’s emerged from his office, scowling.

“Steve sucks!” says Clint, pouting.

Nick looks unimpressed.

“Is this about the dating rule?” he says.

“It’s nothing, Dad,” says Steve. “It was just a weird day. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well try to have your weird conversations at a lower volume,” says Nick.

“Sorry,” says Steve.

“Sorry, Dad,” Clint mutters.

“And Clint,” Nick adds. “From now on, I think it’s best if you and Jane work on your science project at our house.”

Clint throws his hands in the air.

“You both _suck_!” he says.

Nick just goes back in his office.

\-----

“Hey, Barnes.”

Bucky looks around, but all he sees is a redheaded girl staring intently into the locker two to the right of his. He goes back to digging around his own locker.

“I hear your attempts at romancing Steve aren’t going so great.”

Bucky closes his eyes. Twenty-four hours ago he was a peaceful loner. Now random kids have started ambushing him at his locker trying to orchestrate his lovelife. Where did things go wrong?

“I know fifteen ways to kill you with my bare hands,” he says, turning to the redheaded girl who must be the one harassing him now, even if she still won’t look at him. Everyone at Shield is already terrified of him, so that should do the trick.

“I know twenty-four,” the girl retorts, sounding unimpressed. The frightening thing is Bucky’s not sure she’s lying. She finally glances over at him. “I’m Natasha. Don’t look at me.” She goes back to staring into her locker.

“Why?” says Bucky.

“Because I can’t be seen talking with you,” she says.

“Afraid I’ll ruin your reputation?” Bucky scoffs.

“Afraid you’ll ruin this whole thing if Steve finds out we’ve been talking,” she says.

“Are you friends with Loki?” Bucky asks.

“ _Please_ ,” says Natasha scornfully. “Loki’s not the only horse in this race.”

Bucky has no idea what that means. He turns back to his locker.

“The direct approach won’t work with Steve,” Natasha continues in a low voice. “You’ve gotta be more subtle.”

“What am I supposed to do, leave him anonymous notes?” says Bucky.

“No, dumbass, find a reason to spend time with him,” says Natasha. “Actually go to your English class. Join the track team. Get him to like you.”

“So simple,” says Bucky sarcastically. “I don’t think I can join a sports team halfway through the year.”

“Well then find another way,” Natasha hisses. “Tony Stark is having a party on Saturday and you need to take Steve.”

“Hey, nobody gave me a deadline,” says Bucky. He finally finds _Pride and Prejudice_ in the back of his locker, drops it into his backpack, and closes his locker.

Natasha closes her locker too and turns to him.

“This is important, Barnes,” she says, looking him straight in the eye (which is more frightening than Bucky wants to admit). “Don’t fuck it up.”

“I’m just in this for the money,” Bucky starts to say, but Natasha’s already halfway down the hall.

Well, that was spectacularly unhelpful. Bucky heads off to English class, because that is the one thing Natasha suggested that he knows he can do, and also, he was planning to do it anyway. He arrives a few minutes early to find Steve alone in the classroom.

“Oh god,” says Steve when Bucky sits at the desk next to his. “I’m not interested.”

“Do you mind?” says Bucky. “I’m trying to get into right headspace for class. It requires silence.”

“Because you come so little you’ve forgotten what class is?” says Steve.

“You know, you’re kind of an asshole,” says Bucky. Which probably isn’t the best way to get someone to date you, but seriously, what is Steve’s problem.

“So my brother tells me,” says Steve. “You might know him. Clint Fury?”

“Never met him,” says Bucky honestly. He thinks he gets Steve’s hostility now. “So what did you think of Mr. Darcy’s proposal?”

“Mr. – what?” Steve’s looking at Bucky like he’s grown another head.

“The reading?” says Bucky. He waves his copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ in Steve’s face.

“You did the reading?” says Steve skeptically.

“I skimmed,” says Bucky. “To be honest, I’m failing this class, so I’m trying to pull my grade up.”

“Actually coming to class is a good start,” says Steve. His tone is slightly friendlier.

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “But I could use some help. Do you think maybe you could help me out after school?”

Steve sighs.

“Look, Bucky –”

“Hey.” Bucky holds up his hands. “No strings attached. Strictly homework.”

Other students have started coming into the class now. A guy with a shaved head and a bad sunburn taps Bucky on the shoulder.

“Hey, man, I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” says Bucky.

“You’re sitting in my seat,” says the kid aggressively.

“Seats aren’t assigned in this class,” says Steve at once, to Bucky’s surprise.

“But I’ve been sitting at this desk _all year_ ,” says the guy. “You have no right –”

“Sorry, man,” says Bucky. “Snooze you lose.”

“You don’t want to upset me,” says the guy threateningly.

“Schmidt,” says Steve wearily, “just move along.”

“You’ll pay for this,” Schmidt tells Bucky, but he goes off to find an empty desk.

“I’m terrified,” says Bucky to Schmidt’s retreating back. He turns back to Steve and smiles. “Thanks.”

“I actually hate when people take my seat,” Steve admits in a low voice. “But Schmidt’s a dick, so.” He shrugs.

Bucky grins.

“So about studying together?” he prompts.

Steve sighs.

“How do you know I’m even good at English?” he asks.

“I don’t,” says Bucky. “But if you don’t help me, I’m gonna have to ask someone else, and where am I gonna find someone who’ll be such an asshole to me?”

“I don’t think you’d have to look that far,” says Steve, but he’s smiling. “Meet me by the locker room at five-fifteen.”

“Awesome, thank you,” says Bucky.

At the front of the class, Mr. Jones clears his throat.

“Remember,” Steve whispers. “No strings attached.”

“No strings attached,” Bucky agrees. He winces as Steve turns his attention to Mr. Jones.

There are so many strings attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, did I promise Clint/Coulson interaction this chapter? It didn't really fit in, so it'll be in _next_ chapter. Maybe. Hopefully. It'll happen eventually!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me!


	5. Chapter 5

Phil nervously adjusts his sweater vest. He’s waiting outside the cafeteria for Betty, who promised to introduce him to Clint at lunch. The bell rang five minutes ago and she still isn’t here. Phil adjusts his sweater vest again. Why did he wear a sweater vest? He’s sweating.

“Hey.” A brunette girl that Phil’s pretty sure he’s seen with Clint approaches him. “You Phil?”

“Yes,” says Phil, tugging at the bottom of his sweater vest again.

“Why are you wearing a sweater vest?” the girl asks. “Actually, I don’t care. I’m Darcy. Betty texted me to meet you. Apparently Tony and Bruce blew something up again.”

She says this like it’s an everyday occurrence – and even though he’s been at Shield High less than a week, Phil’s pretty sure it is.

“So,” Darcy continues as they enter the cafeteria. “You’re the mastermind behind _The Taming of the Steve_.” She grins proudly at her own pun.

“Um,” says Phil. “I mean, there were a lot of people involved, I think, and –”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” says Darcy. “Believe me, I’m thrilled Clint’s getting a shot at being a normal teenager. It’s about time his dad severed the apron strings or whatever. And watching the Russian Assassin try to seduce Captain Perfect? Best entertainment ever. Oh hey, there’s Clint! Come on.”

Phil follows her to a table in the middle of the cafeteria where Clint is sitting with the pretty redheaded girl Phil’s never seen him without. Clint has one leg fully extended on the girl’s chair, and they’re so deep in conversation they don’t notice Phil and Darcy until Darcy drops her tray right next to the redheaded girl’s. They look up in perfect synchronization, and if they’re startled, they don’t show it.

“Guys, this is Phil,” says Darcy, sitting next to the girl. “He’s new. Phil, this is Natasha and Clint.”

“Hey,” says Natasha.

“How’s it going,” says Clint; it’s definitely not a question. “Cool vest.”

It’s impossible to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

“You gonna sit with us?” Clint adds, when Phil just stands there.

“Oh,” says Phil. “Yeah.”

He sits across from Clint and immediately regrets it. Now Clint, Natasha, and Darcy are all looking right at him. It feels like an interrogation and no one’s even said anything yet.

“So, Phil,” says Natasha. “What brings you to Shield High?”

“District zoning mostly,” says Phil.

Clint laughs. It’s _amazing_.

“Um, yeah, no,” Phil continues. “We had to move because my mom got promoted.”

“Impressive,” says Natasha sincerely. “What does she do?”

“Do you like archery?” says Clint abruptly. “I’m captain of the archery team. You should come watch us sometime.”

“Oh,” says Phil, startled. “That sounds –”

“Oh my god!” A tiny brunette throws herself into the chair next to Phil. She smells strongly of chemicals, and there’s a large hole in the front of the flannel shirt she’s wearing open over a black tank top. “I am not TA-ing for Selvig anymore! Look at this!” She shakes the holey part of her shirt aggressively at the three on the other side of the table. “Even when he puts them on opposite sides of the room, Tony and Bruce _still_ manage to explode everything!”

“You say that every week,” says Darcy, evidently unfazed by this outburst. “By the way, Jane, this is Phil.” She gives Jane a significant look Phil hopes to god Clint doesn’t notice.

“Who?” says Jane.

Darcy’s eyes widen and she jerks her head toward Clint. Phil wants to die.

“Oh,” says Jane. “Ohhh. _Phil_. So nice to meet you!”

“You shouldn’t even be TA-ing a senior lab when you’re a sophomore,” says Clint, who thankfully seems to have noticed nothing.

“Jane’s really smart,” Darcy tells Phil.

“And that’s why she is _my_ lab partner,” says Clint. He leans his chair back and nearly falls over. Natasha snorts.

“Yeah, because I do all the heavy lifting,” says Jane. “He couldn’t pass that class without me,” she tells Phil.

“Ouch! And I was gonna let you borrow one of my shirts,” says Clint.

“The hole isn’t in her tank top,” says Darcy, which earns her a high five from Natasha.

“Do you need me to take care of Stark?” Natasha asks Jane.

“What?” says Jane. “Nat, no! It’s fine.”

“Okay,” says Natasha. “But remember: just say the word.”

“I know,” says Jane, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of Tony Stark,” says Darcy loudly. “Phil, are you going to Tony’s party Saturday?”

“I –”

“Oh yeah, you should definitely come to the party!” says Jane, quieter than Darcy but still too loud. “Shouldn’t Phil come to Tony’s party, Clint?”

Phil heroically resists the urge to bang his head on the table. They are both _terrible_ at this. He wishes Maria or Pepper were here, but they’re in some club meeting (he’d kind of stopped paying attention after Betty told him she’d introduce him to Clint).

“Definitely!” says Clint. “Tony said I could bring my bow and do some shooting tricks. It’s gonna be awesome.”

“Wear Kevlar,” says Natasha.

“Rude, Nat!” says Clint. “Everyone knows I never miss.”

“Unfortunately he’s not lying,” says Jane.

“Anyway, it’ll give us a chance to hang out more,” Clint says to Phil.

Phil can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across his face.

“We don’t have to wait until the party,” he says quickly. “My parents are taking me sailing tomorrow after school. You could come with us.”

“Aww, I wish,” says Clint. “I’m great at boats. But my dad’s weird about me hanging out with guys. The only way I’ll even get to Tony’s is if my dumb brother agrees to go too. Which I’d normally say is even less likely than me missing a shot, but Darce claims she has something in the works. Don’t ask.”

“I never reveal my secrets,” says Darcy. She winks at Phil. “I’m totally free to go sailing tomorrow though. Ow!”

Phil’s not sure, but he thinks Jane might have kicked Darcy under the table.

“Oh, I just remembered I can’t because I’m, um, busy and stuff,” says Darcy.

“Well I’ll look for you at Tony’s,” says Phil to Clint, pointedly not looking at Darcy.

“Fingers crossed I’m there to find,” says Clint.

\-----

Steve’s definitely not sneaking Bucky into the house. Not really. That would imply there’s something forbidden about Bucky being there, which there totally isn’t. It’s strictly a homework thing.

It’s just, it’d be really nice if he could get Bucky in and out without his dad or Clint finding out and making it into something it isn’t.

Bucky’s just a friend. Like Sam. No, not like Sam. Bucky’s not even really Steve’s friend. He’s just a classmate Steve’s helping out. There’s no need for Clint or Nick to make it weird.

“Why are we sneaking into your house again?” Bucky whispers. Loudly.

Steve winces.

“We’re not sneaking in,” he hisses. “I just don’t want to disturb my dad.”

He hears movement in the kitchen. Great, that means Nick’s already started on dinner and they have to pass the kitchen entrance on their way to the stairs. But it sounds like Nick is in the pantry, so they have a small window of opportunity.

“Go!” Steve whispers, pushing Bucky toward the stairs. With any luck, they’ll make it to Steve’s room before Nick realizes Steve’s home.

“Steve?”

Too late.

“How was prac–” Nick stops short. He’s wearing the stained and well-worn frilly blue apron that used to belong to Steve’s mother (and that Nick’s always worn in the kitchen since her death) and he’s cradling an assortment of spices, and it would be funny if Steve weren’t so, so dead.

“Who’s this?” Nick’s tone changes from warm to frosty in an instant.

Steve hastily drops the hand he has on Bucky’s back.

“Dad, this is Bucky,” he says in the most casual voice he can muster. Even to his ears it doesn’t sound very convincing. “I’m, uh, helping him with his English. With English _class_ , I mean, he does speak English, obviously.”

Oh god.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” says Bucky, extending his hand.

Nick narrows his eye.

“How old are you?” he demands.

“Eighteen, sir,” says Bucky.

“Hm,” says Nick. “You know my son is still a minor and it’s illegal for you to engage in sexual activities with him, right?”

“ _DAD!_ ” Steve can feel every inch of his face burning.

“It’s important we understand each other,” says Nick, without a trace of embarrassment or remorse.

“I understand, sir,” says Bucky.

“We’re not even dating!” says Steve.

“Yet,” says Bucky. And then he actually _winks_ at Nick, because apparently he has a death wish.

Nick narrows his eye again.

“Oh my god!” Steve grabs Bucky’s arm and steers him toward the stairs. “We’re going to go do homework now, _just_ homework, nothing else, okay, bye.”

“Leave your door open,” Nick calls after them.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Steve snarls as he pulls Bucky into his room (and closes the door because whatever, they _are_ just going to do homework, and he doesn’t want Clint bothering them whenever he finally rolls in with Jane). “Do you want my dad to murder you?”

But Bucky is laughing.

“Are you kidding?” he says. “Your dad is amazing!”

“I’m serious,” says Steve. “He really will kill you if you try anything with me.”

“Is that why you’re so weird about that stuff?” asks Bucky.

“That’s not why you’re here,” Steve reminds him. “English, remember?”

“Okay,” says Bucky, sitting at Steve’s desk and pulling a notebook out of his backpack. “But you’re going to have to tell me eventually.”

“No, I’m not,” says Steve.

The next half-hour is a weird one. Instead of answering any of the discussion questions or listening to Steve’s limited literary insights, Bucky spends the entire time interrogating Steve about how _he’d_ feel if he found out his friends were manipulating his lovelife.

“I mean, it’s wrong, okay,” says Steve finally, when it becomes clear Bucky isn’t going to let the subject go. “He should have talked to Bingley about his misgivings instead of going behind his back.”

“But Bingley always sees the good in people and wouldn’t have listened to Darcy,” Bucky points out.

“That doesn’t make it okay for Darcy to just decide he knows what’s best for him,” says Steve. “And Darcy turned out to be wrong. Jane really did love Bingley.” He frowns. “Are you trying to get ideas for your paper or something?”

“We have to a write a paper?” says Bucky.

“We have to write papers for all the books,” says Steve. “Have you not been doing that?”

Bucky shrugs.

“I’ve had other things on my mind,” he says vaguely.

“Well you should talk to Jones about makeup work,” says Steve. “I’m sure he’d–”

“Did you draw this?”

Steve looks up and feels himself go red. Bucky is holding a sketch of Sam that Steve’s been working on for Sam’s birthday in a few weeks. It’s his third draft, but he still can’t quite get the nose right. He must have left it lying out on his desk. He’s not sure why it took Bucky so long to notice it, unless he moved something.

“I – it’s a hobby,” says Steve quickly.

“It’s good,” says Bucky. “The nose is a little off.”

“I’m working on it,” Steve snaps. He snatches the sketch out of Bucky’s hand.

“Can I see more?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t usually show people,” says Steve.

“Why not?” says Bucky. “I’m no expert, but you seem really talented.”

“It’s just – it’s my private thing,” says Steve.

“Okay,” says Bucky. Then he grins. “Will you draw me?”

“Bucky –”

“Oh, come on!” Bucky drops to the floor and stretches into a ridiculous parody of a sexy pose. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Steve!”

Steve throws _Pride and Prejudice_ at him, but Bucky ducks out of the way, and the next thing Steve knows, he’s thrown himself on top of Bucky and they’re grappling good-naturedly. Bucky rolls them over and suddenly just stops, staring down at Steve, close enough that Steve can feel his breath, close enough that if Steve just lifted his head a tiny bit –

The bedroom door bangs open.

In the rest of his life, Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever see anything as hilarious as the upside down image of Clint standing in Steve’s doorway, expression frozen in shock.

“You asshole!” Clint shouts. “You _are_ dating!”

Steve shoves Bucky off of him and scrambles to his feet.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he says. “Bucky and I were just doing homework.”

Clint snorts.

“Really? What are you studying? Chemistry?”

Bucky, who’s also gotten to his feet and has come to stand beside Steve, looks unimpressed.

“You’re better than that,” he tells Clint.

“I’m really not,” says Clint. Then his face lights up and Steve stifles a groan. He knows that look. Nothing good ever comes from that look.

“Well, it looks like we have a few options here,” says Clint. “I could tell Dad what I saw just now –”

“Clint –”

“ _Orrrrr_ ,” Clint continues, stretching out the word and smirking, “you could go to Tony’s party on Saturday so I can too.”

“Absolutely not,” says Steve immediately.

“You don’t like parties?” says Bucky.

“Watching a bunch of teenagers get wasted, blow stuff up, and rub up against each other?” says Steve. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“We’ll be there,” Bucky tells Clint.

“No, we won’t,” says Steve.

“Yes, we will,” says Bucky. “Unless you want your dad to murder me.”

“Right now I’d probably help him,” says Steve.

“Oh, sounds fun!” says Clint. He raises his voice. “Hey, D–”

Steve slaps his hand over Clint’s mouth, and gets a palm full of saliva for his trouble.

“Fine,” he snaps, wiping his hand on the back of Bucky’s shirt. Asshole deserves it. “I’ll go. But only for a couple hours.”

“Yes!” says Clint. “I’m gonna go text Nat. You should get him out of here before Dad invites him to stay for dinner.”

“Good point,” says Steve. He grabs Bucky’s backpack off the floor and shoves it into Bucky’s chest. “Time to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, things are finally starting to develop. Next chapter is Tony's party, and as we all know, that's where things really come to a head, so stay tuned!
> 
> And as always, thanks for sticking with this story and taking time to leave kudos and reviews!


	6. Chapter 6

“Bye, Dad, we’re going to Tony’s,” Steve calls as he shoves Clint out the door. If they can make it the twenty feet to the car, Steve won’t have to convince their dad that it’s totally within the rules for him to take Clint to a party. In fact, Steve might never have to tell their dad he took Clint to a party at all.

They don’t make it the twenty feet to the car.

“Stop, turn, and explain,” Nick calls from the front door.

Steve, who’s already reaching for his Jeep’s door handle, briefly considers making a break for it, but it’s not worth it. Besides, maybe this will get him out of this stupid party. He turns to face Nick.

“Clint and I are going over to Tony’s,” he says.

Nick frowns.

“Aren’t Howard and Maria out of town this weekend?” he says.

“Yep,” says Clint. “Okay, bye!” He yanks open the passenger door.

“Clint.” Nick doesn’t even raise his voice but Clint still freezes. “Are you two going to a party?”

“Only for a couple hours,” says Steve. He glares at Clint.

“Do you know what goes on at parties?” Nick demands.

“Unfortunately, yes,” says Steve.

“Dad, it’s at Tony’s,” says Clint in a tone he probably thinks is persuasive but actually just comes off as whiny. “You _know_ him.”

“Yes, I do,” says Nick. “That boy is like a son to me.”

Which Steve thinks is kind of overstating things. If anything, Clint is like a son to the Starks, while Tony is like that weird cousin everyone tries to avoid at family reunions to Nick and Steve. But whatever.

“Which is why I know I can trust him about as far as I can throw him,” Nick adds.

“I don’t know, I think you could throw him pretty far,” says Steve.

The corner of Nick’s mouth twitches, but he points at Steve and says seriously, “You do not let your brother drink, smoke, have sex –”

 _“Dad!”_ Steve and Clint cry at the same time.

“I’m serious,” says Nick. “I’m trusting you to be responsible, Steve.”

This, of course, is the moment Bucky chooses to roar up the driveway on the deathtrap he calls a motorcycle. (Which Steve is totally not jealous of. At all.)

“What’s this?” Nick demands as Bucky dismounts the bike in one fluid motion, pulls off his helmet, and shakes back his ridiculous, impractically long hair (and Steve tugs on the bottom of his jacket and fervently reminds himself that his mother is dead and his dad is _right there_ ).

“I don’t know,” says Steve honestly.

“You said eight, right?” says Bucky, squeezing Steve’s shoulder and letting his hand linger there.

“What?” says Steve stupidly. He hasn’t spoken to Bucky since English yesterday, where they’d arranged to meet at the party at eight. Or had they said they were meeting _for_ the party at eight? He can’t remember, and the overpowering musky scent of Bucky’s stupid leather jacket isn’t helping.

“I’ll have them home by midnight,” Bucky promises Nick. He opens the driver’s door and nudges Steve. “Let’s go.”

“We’re going to talk about this later,” Nick tells Steve.

“I know,” says Steve miserably.

Bucky and Clint are already in the Jeep. Clint leans forward – Bucky somehow managed to claim the front seat – and taps the horn a few times.

“Come _on_ , Steve!” he shouts.

Steve braces himself and climbs in.

\-----

When Phil gets to Tony’s, the party is already in full swing.

“You came!” Darcy cries, hurtling out of nowhere and flinging her arms around his neck as soon as he walks inside. “Clint’s gonna be so happy to see you!”

Phil winces, since she’s more or less screaming in his ear. Given how loud the music is, though, he’s not sure he’d be able to hear her if she weren’t.

“Sorry, she really needs to slow down,” says Sif, who’s followed Darcy. She pushes a water bottle into Darcy’s hand. “Drink this.”

“Someone’s _bossy_ ,” Darcy slurs. She turns to Phil, jerks her head toward Sif, and screams in what she clearly thinks is a whisper, “I am soooo gonna get laid tonight.”

“Congratulations,” says Phil. “Do you know where Clint is?”

“What?” Darcy screams.

“Where’s Clint?” Phil screams back.

“I lost track of him when I was doing jello shots,” Darcy shouts. She tilts her head as the music changes. “I love this song! Sif, let’s dance!”

She grabs Sif’s hand and pulls her back into the teeming crowd. With no clear direction, Phil follows them and runs straight into Bucky Barnes.

“Have you seen Steve Fury?” Bucky asks, before Phil can so much as mutter a _sorry_.

“What?” says Phil, startled.

“STEVE! FURY!” Bucky bellows, evidently misinterpreting Phil’s confusion.

Phil shakes his head.

“I KNOW HE’S HERE,” Bucky yells, as though Phil is purposefully concealing Steve’s whereabouts.

Phil shrugs and darts around Bucky and into the kitchen. There’s a substantial crowd gathered around the center island, where Tony, Maya, and Bruce appear to be mixing chemicals of some sort. Phil squeezes past this group and finally finds a door to the backyard. It’s quieter and less crowded outside, though not by much. More than one person is throwing up in the Starks’ perfectly-trimmed hedges running along the fence, and the well-lit patio is being used as a dance floor. Phil immediately spies Darcy grinding with Sif, and Jane and Thor next to them. And right beside them, Clint.

And Loki.

Clint and Loki.

Clint is dancing with Loki.

Phil feels sick. He turns to go back inside – to do what, he doesn’t know – but a hand closes around his upper arm.

“You’re late,” Natasha snarls in his ear.

“It’s not even nine,” says Phil. He doesn’t even remember Natasha being part of this plan.

“You should have been here before Clint,” Natasha snaps. “Now we have to do damage control.”

“I don’t think I’m up for that,” says Phil.

“I don’t give a shit,” says Natasha. “Go to him. Now!” She spins him around and shoves him in Clint’s direction.

“Phil! Hey!” Clint shouts, semi-detaching himself from Loki so he can slap Phil’s arm right where Natasha grabbed it.

Phil winces, but there’s no way Clint could have done it on purpose. Then again, Phil suspects Clint and Natasha can actually read each other’s minds.

“I’ll catch up with you later!” Clint yells. He jerks his head toward Loki and gives Phil a thumbs up before Loki pulls him away.

Phil turns back to the house. Natasha is staring at him, shaking her head. Phil thinks she might actually look disappointed.

She’s not the only one.

\-----

Bucky lost Steve almost as soon as they entered the house. Steve had shouted something about drinks and – books? – Bucky has no idea anymore – and disappeared into the ridiculous labyrinth the Starks call a house. In the hour since then, Bucky’s had several drinks spilled on him, stepped in vomit, been nearly set on fire by whatever Tony and his friends are doing in the kitchen, and narrowly avoided an arrow twice (he’s managed to inadvertently find the Fury brother he _isn’t_ looking for several times). As Bucky comes back from checking Steve’s Jeep to see if he’s been hiding out there this whole time, he can’t help thinking Steve might have a point about parties.

“STEVE FURY,” he shouts into the crowd for what feels like the millionth time that night. “HAS ANYONE SEEN STEVE FURY?”

And finally, someone answers him.

“Yeah,” says a kid in glasses with a smarmy smirk. “I’m pretty at this point _everyone’s_ seen Steve Fury.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky demands.

But the kid just smirks more and points at a doorway to the left. Bucky goes through it into what appears to be the formal dining room, where, sure enough, he finds Steve.

“Oh god,” says Bucky. This is it. This is how he dies.

Because Steve, who is clearly wasted, is dancing in the middle of the table, twirling his jacket over his head while a huge crowd cheers and catcalls around him.

“Steve!” Bucky pushes his way through the crowd until he’s at the edge of the table. “STEVE!” He waves his arms.

Steve’s face lights up.

“Bucky, hey!” he shouts. “Get up here!”

“What are you doing?” says Bucky.

Steve tosses his jacket on Bucky’s head and pulls his shirt off.

“Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do at a party?” he yells, to deafening screams.

“I think you’ve had enough partying,” says Bucky, as Steve stumbles a nearly falls. “Why don’t you come down here and we can talk about it.”

“I’m good up here,” says Steve, swaying alarmingly. “I am. _So good_.”

“Steve, I really think you need to get down now,” says Bucky.

“You worry too much,” Steve slurs. “I worry too much. Everyone worries –”

Bucky barely manages to catch Steve before his head hits the corner of the table. A few people shriek; a few others cheer. No one does anything to help as Bucky tries to pull Steve into a sitting position. When it becomes clear Steve is not going sit up on his own, Bucky gently lowers him until he’s lying on the table.

“’m so good,” Steve murmurs.

Bucky shakes his head, smiling slightly.

“I can’t believe you’re such a lightweight,” he says.

“He has a heart condition, you moron!”

Bucky’s head jerks up. Clint has appeared in the thinning crowd. He’s clinging to Natasha’s hand and looks terrified.

“Alcohol fucks with his meds!”

“ _What?_ ” Bucky doesn’t see how he could reasonably have been expected to know this – it’s not like Steve is eager to provide information about himself – but he’s still horrified.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

A girl steps around Clint and joins Bucky beside the table. She gives him a reassuring smile.

“I’m Betty,” she says. “My mom’s a doctor. It’s gonna be okay.”

Her calmness stops Bucky from panicking completely.

“How much has he had to drink?” Betty asks as she checks Steve’s pulse just below his jaw.

“I don’t know. I – I lost sight of him for awhile,” Bucky admits.

“Is he going to die?” says Clint loudly. “Shouldn’t someone call 911?”

“He’ll be fine,” says Betty. She points at a boy in the crowd. “Phil, take Clint home.”

“But what am I gonna tell my dad?” says Clint.

“You’ll figure it out,” says Betty, standing. “You guys –” she points at a couple football players “– help me get Steve somewhere quiet. Tony, bring us some water.”

The football players haul Steve off the table and half drag, half carry him upstairs and into one of the Starks’ spare bedrooms, Betty leading the way and Bucky trailing after them, clutching Steve’s shirt.

“Fandral,” Steve slurs, grabbing a player’s wrist as he’s deposited on the bed. “We never hang out anymore.”

“We’ll have to rectify that soon,” says Fandral, carefully freeing himself and patting Steve on the shoulder with a smile. He shoots Betty a worried look over Steve’s head.

“Are you sure he doesn’t need to go to the hospital?” Bucky asks Betty quietly, as the football players leave.

“Do you really want to explain to Mayor Fury how his son ended up in the hospital on your watch?” she answers.

“I’d rather do that than have to tell him his son is _dead_ ,” Bucky snaps.

“Touché,” says Betty. “But Steve will be fine. His heart’s racing, but not alarmingly. He just needs to flush the alcohol out of his system.”

On cue, Tony bursts into the room with a huge pitcher of water.

“I brought water!” he announces.

“Really?” says Betty. “Tony, _glasses_. How is Steve supposed to drink from that?”

“You just said to bring water!” says Tony. “I think I did okay!”

“You – oh, Pepper, thank god,” says Betty as a girl appears in the doorway holding a glass of water with a straw. Betty takes the glass from Pepper and shoves it into Bucky’s hand.

“Make him drink this,” Betty says. “Keep him awake until he’s mostly sober. Then you can let him sleep. You guys can crash here tonight.”

“We can _not_!” says Bucky. He’s only known Steve a few days, but that’s been long enough to know Steve will kill him in the morning if they spend the night together.

“It’s fine, I’ll call his dad,” says Pepper. “I’ll take care of it. You just take care of Steve.”

Bucky runs a hand across his face. He is not getting paid enough for this.

“Come find me if you need anything,” says Betty. She ushers Tony and Pepper out, shutting the door and leaving Bucky and Steve alone.

Bucky makes his way to the bed. Thankfully, the football players had enough sense to prop Steve up against the headboard, so he’s more or less sitting upright. Bucky sits beside Steve and holds the water under his nose.

“You need to drink this,” he says.

“I’m not gonna die, you know,” Steve mumbles. He takes the glass and sucks down half its contents in a single gulp.

“Not on my watch,” Bucky agrees. “What’s wrong with you? You must know better.”

“Schmidt,” says Steve.

“The dick from English?” asks Bucky. “What about him?”

Steve shrugs.

“I hate that guy,” he says vaguely.

“Well you’ve really shown him,” says Bucky.

Steve giggles into his now empty water glass. Bucky grabs Tony’s pitcher from the bedside table and refills the glass.

“Drink that,” he says. “Then I’ll take you home.”

Steve shakes his head.

“My dad will kill me,” he says.

“Not if he kills me first,” says Bucky. “I mean, you didn’t go to parties before you met me. I’m clearly the bad influence here.”

“I’m not as responsible as you think,” says Steve. “I used to get beat up all the time in grade school.”

“Your dad didn’t put the fear of god into your classmates?” asks Bucky, surprised.

“No, he did,” says Steve. “But that didn’t stop the bullies from targeting other kids. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“You initiated the fights,” says Bucky.

“You don’t have to be what they expect you to be,” says Steve.

“And what do they expect you to be?” Bucky asks quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Something I’m not,” he says. “Clint, probably.”

“Yeah, well,” says Bucky. “No offense to Clint, but I’d choose you. Every time.”

Steve blinks up at him.

“That’s pretty brave,” he murmurs.

And then he throws up in Bucky’s lap.

\-----

Clint is quiet as Phil drives him home. Phil doesn’t say anything either, mostly because he isn’t sure what to say. Everything went bad tonight so very, very fast.

“I’m sure Steve will be fine,” he says as he pulls into the Furys' driveway.

“You don’t know that,” says Clint. “I thought – he hasn’t been hospitalized since junior high.”

“Can I ask you something?” says Phil. He kind of hates himself for this, but he has to know. “Why Loki? I mean what’s the deal with –”

“Phil.” Clint covers Phil’s hand with his own. “That’s so complicated.”

“I mean, can you at least tell me if I have a chance or if I should just –”

But the rest of Phil’s question dies in his throat because Clint is kissing him: soft, gentle, and so much better than Phil ever imagined.

“Goodnight,” Clint murmurs as he pulls away. He gets out before Phil can say anything, casting one last look over his shoulder before he opens the front door.

Phil thinks it might be a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'm sorry for the long wait. My mom was in town for awhile, and then I just had the biggest block with this chapter. I don't know why, but man, this chapter was hard. That said, I'm going to try to update more quickly in the future, but no promises.
> 
> Secondly, I am not a doctor nor do I have any kind of medical knowledge. Drink responsibly, kids, and don't get your medical advice from fanfic! :)
> 
> Thirdly, will we ever find out what made Steve so emotionally screwed up? Yes, yes we will. One day.
> 
> Finally, as always, thank you for sticking with this story. Difficulties with this chapter aside, it's tons of fun to write, and I'm happy so many of you are enjoying it with me <3


	7. Chapter 7

Steve’s phone rings way too early. Three times in a row. He tries to silence it with his eyes closed but his stupid fingers refuse to find the button. By the fourth time, answering seems easier.

“Please stop calling,” he tries to say. It comes out more like, “Pluh stah calugh.”

“Thank _fuck_ you’re alive!” says Sam. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Steve squeezes his eyes shut, trying to quiet the pounding in his head as he attempts to process Sam’s words. It’s too early for this.

“Are you okay?” Sam repeats. “Are you in the hospital? Man, I leave you alone for one weekend and –”

“Stop shouting,” Steve mumbles. He moves the phone a couple inches away from his ear.

“I’m not shouting!” Sam screams. “I’m freaking out! I go on facebook this morning and the first thing I see is a video of you dancing on a table –”

“ _What?_ ” Steve bolts upright and immediately regrets it as a jolt of excruciating pain shoots through his head. He collapses back on his pillow – another mistake – and snatches up the phone. “There’s a video on facebook?”

“Yeah,” says Sam. “It’s like, viral, man.”

Steve groans. “Oh my god.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam demands. He’s evidently deduced that Steve is not, in fact, dying. “You _know_ better. You could have had a heart attack.”

“I’ve gotta go,” says Steve. He ends the call over Sam’s shouted protests and scrolls through his very short list of contacts.

Tony answers on the first ring.

“Fury, I’m glad you’re alive, but it’s a little early to be making morning-after calls, don’t you think?” he says. He sounds wide awake and not hungover at all because he’s an asshole like that.

“There’s a video on facebook,” says Steve.

“Really?” says Tony. “Good quality? I was pretty sorry I missed most of –”

“Tony,” Steve interrupts. “I was at _your_ house. If this gets out –”

“How _did_ it get out?” says Tony. “JARVIS has protocols for that.”

“ _That’s_ how your online record is so clean!” Steve can’t believe he’s never put that together before. JARVIS is an AI Tony designed for his eighth grade science fair project and has been tinkering with ever since. Steve knows Tony has a program for scrubbing damaging pictures and videos of himself from the internet, but now he thinks about it, it makes more sense to have a system that makes sure those things never make it online at all.

“Yeah, I’m irresponsible, not an idiot,” says Tony. “Do you know the source? I know Hammer’s been trying to break through my system for months but there’s no way –”

“I just know it’s all over facebook,” says Steve.

“Well, I’ll take care of it,” Tony promises. “Gone by lunch.”

“Thank you,” says Steve.

“So what’s the deal with you and the Russian kid?” Tony asks conversationally.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Goodbye, Tony.”

“What, I’m about to waste my Sunday morning doing you a huge favor and you can’t even answer a simple question?” says Tony.

“Like you don’t want to know who hacked your system,” says Steve

“Nobody says ‘hack’ anymore,” says Tony. “Come on, just between us.”

“Right,” says Steve skeptically, rubbing his eyes. The Starks might be the closest thing the Furys have to family – and Steve certainly isn’t above calling in a favor from Tony when he needs one – but that doesn’t mean Tony is on the list of people with whom Steve wants to discuss whatever may or may not be going on between him and Bucky.

Still, Tony _is_ saving Steve’s ass, and it’s easier to just give him what he wants.

“His name is Bucky,” says Steve, “and there’s no ‘deal’. We’re just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” says Tony. “Well I know I’m emotionally-stunted or whatever Pepper says, but I can still tell you that even if that’s true on your end, that is not what he thinks.”

“He probably doesn’t think we’re much of anything after I hurled all over him last night,” says Steve. Most of last night is a blur, but unfortunately he remembers that part pretty clearly.

“I miss everything awesome!” Tony complains.

“Yeah, it was great,” says Steve sarcastically. “Anyway, Bucky knows where I stand.”

“On my dining room table?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Use protec–”

\-----

Bucky arrives at the Furys’ a little after noon. To his immense relief, Steve opens the door, looking surprisingly together for someone who, at the very least, should have the remnants of a bad hangover.

“I’d have called,” says Bucky, “but I still don’t have your number.” He looks Steve up and down. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” says Steve. He glances back into the house, then steps onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind him. “Are you? I’m sorry about… you know.” He waves his hand vaguely.

“Oh. Yeah, no, don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” says Bucky. “Pepper insisted on washing my clothes there, so I just have to remember to bring Stark’s clothes to school tomorrow so we can swap back.”

“You fit in Tony’s clothes? You’re like half a foot taller than him,” says Steve.

“Yeah, the pants didn’t really fit. I had to ride home with like half my calves exposed,” says Bucky. “It was not fun.”

“I am so sorry,” says Steve, but he’s laughing.

“You should be, you jerk,” says Bucky, grinning. “Anyway, if you’re up for it, I wanted to take you to lunch? Make up for last night’s disaster.”

“You have nothing to make up for,” says Steve, sobering. “I’m responsible for what happened. Besides, from what Clint told me, you, um –” the tips of Steve’s ears are turning pick “– you took care of me,” he mutters, going completely red.

“I did what any decent friend would do,” says Bucky, whose own cheeks are feeling distinctly warm. “Anyway, I’m starving, so do you want lunch or not?”

“Would this be a date?” asks Steve. His expression and tone are unreadable.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” says Bucky. “Are you coming?”

“Sure,” says Steve. “Let me just grab my wallet and keys.”

“My treat, my ride,” says Bucky. “Just throw on some shoes and we’ll go.”

“Do you know what my dad would do to me if I got on a motorcycle?” says Steve.

Bucky laughs.

“If the motorcycle kills you, I don’t think your dad could kill you more,” he points out. “Besides, after the shit you pulled last night, you don’t get to play the safety-conscious card anymore.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling.

“You’re a terrible influence,” he says. “Fine. One sec.”

He goes back into the house, leaving the door open behind him, and appears less than a minute later, wearing sneakers and clutching a wallet.

“We can take your bike, but you’re not paying for me,” he says, in answer to Bucky’s raised eyebrow.

“Fair enough,” says Bucky. He pops open his bike’s seat and tosses Steve the extra helmet. “Safety first,” he teases, pulling on his own helmet and swinging himself onto the bike.

Steve rolls his eyes but pulls the helmet on. He awkwardly clambers on behind Bucky and gingerly places his hands on Bucky’s shoulders.

“You do that, you’re gonna fly right off,” says Bucky. He reaches back, grabs Steve’s wrists, and pulls his arms around his waist.

Steve makes an unintelligible noise of protest but Bucky ignores him and punches the bike to life.

“You’ll thank me in a second, trust me,” he shouts over the roar of the engine. Then he slams down his face shield and takes off.

He feels more than hears Steve’s gasp as the bike leaps into motion and Steve’s arms instinctively tighten around Bucky’s waist. The intimacy of the whole thing is more intoxicating than Bucky wants to admit. He’s trying to ignore the increasing awareness that this stopped being about the money around the time they were rolling around on Steve’s bedroom floor (an experience he’d like to repeat, if possible, with fewer interruptions and even fewer clothes). Still, he finds himself taking the long way to his favorite burrito place just so he can feel Steve pressed up against him as long as possible.

“That was _amazing_ ,” says Steve breathlessly the second he pulls off his helmet after they finally pull into the parking lot and Bucky kills the engine.

Bucky grins.

“See what you’ve been missing out on?”

Steve shakes his head, smiling. His hair is sticking up in all directions thanks to the helmet. It looks ridiculous, and Bucky fights the urge to fix it for him, and the even greater urge to mess it up more.

“So what’s your deal, anyway?” Bucky asks, after they’ve finally gotten their food and are sitting in a mostly empty corner of the sunny patio.

“What do you mean?” says Steve.

“I mean your reckless behavior last night despite the enormous stick up your ass,” says Bucky. “The way your family treats you like you’re made of glass. Your whole antisocial thing –”

“You’re not exactly one to judge when it comes to being antisocial,” Steve points out.

“I’m not judging,” says Bucky. “I’m just asking.”

Steve sighs and sets down his mostly uneaten burrito.

“My dad – my other dad, my biological dad – died before Clint was born,” he says. “And my mom was killed a few years after that.”

“I’m sorry,” says Bucky.

“It’s all right,” says Steve. “I don’t even remember my dad. Nick’s the only dad I’ve ever known. And, understandably, he’s terrified I’ll be next, and with my medical history, that’s not just paranoia. You found out last night I have a heart condition. But I also have a history of asthma and a lot of other issues. I mean we’d be here all day if I actually tried to list them all. I’ve almost died six times. Like, literally, in-the-hospital-not-sure-I’d-ever-wake-up-again almost died.”

“Oh,” says Bucky, because he’s not sure what else _to_ say.

“I’m mostly okay now,” Steve continues. “Puberty actually helped with a lot of things, and there’s been some great breakthroughs with meds and stuff since I was a kid. I mean, my dad would never have let me anywhere near the track team without the doctors okaying it first. It’s just –”

“You don’t know how to get out of survival mode,” says Bucky. Things are starting to make sense, and he hates Loki for getting him into this.

He hates himself more though.

“Yeah,” says Steve. “And that’s okay, mostly. Keeps things in perspective or whatever. But, I don’t know, I guess lately I’ve started to get tired of not getting to be like everybody else.”

He shrugs.

“But you’re not like everybody else,” says Bucky before he can stop himself.

Steve looks startled but he gives Bucky a half-smile.

“Thanks,” he says. “I think. So what about you?”

“What about me?” says Bucky.

“What’s _your_ deal, Bucky Barnes?” says Steve.

For a moment Bucky wants to admit everything to Steve – about Loki and the deal he made and however Natasha fits into the whole thing. But he can’t bring himself to do it.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, shaking his head. “Finish your lunch and then we’re gonna work on crossing some things off your list.”

“What list?” says Steve.

“The list you should have of things you’ve been missing out on,” says Bucky. “Come on, eat up.”

\-----

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asks Steve.

“Dude, I’m giving you full control of my most prized possession,” says Bucky. “I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“I don’t trust your judgment, so that’s not exactly reassuring,” says Steve.

They’re in the empty school parking lot so Bucky can teach Steve how to operate a motorcycle. Steve’s not sure how much of his agitation has to do with actually having control of the bike and how much has to do with how close behind him Bucky is. Not having something embarrassing happen when their positions were reversed had been difficult enough (although at least this way there’s a chance Bucky won’t notice if Steve _can’t_ control himself).

“Jerk,” says Bucky fondly. He presses even closer.

“Ow!” says Steve as Bucky’s helmet collides with his own.

“Sorry.”

Bucky pulls off his helmet and tosses it gently onto the grass beside them.

“Now you know I trust you,” he says. “We won’t be going fast, it’s fine,” he adds, when Steve turns to him with a frown. He presses up against Steve’s back again and places his hands over Steve’s on the handles. “Okay,” he says, right against Steve’s left ear, and Steve suppresses a shiver. “The most important thing is letting out the clutch as smoothly as possible. A smooth clutch is a smooth ride.”

“Smooth clutch, smooth ride,” Steve repeats, trying to focus on the words and not on how good it feels to have Bucky’s arms wrapped around him.

“Right,” says Bucky. “And don’t worry if you stall. It happens. And don’t panic. It’ll be fine. You’ve got this. And I’ve got you.”

“I know you do,” says Steve, surprising himself, and Bucky’s right hand tightens slightly around Steve’s.

Steve _does_ stall the bike several times, but Bucky is far more patient and relaxed than Steve would have expected even a few days ago, and eventually Steve actually gets the bike moving.

By the third time around the parking lot, Steve is so exhilarated he doesn’t even notice at first when Bucky lets go of the handles. When he does realize, he panics for a second, jerking a little too far right, but Bucky gets it back under control immediately and eases them to a stop.

“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he says.

Steve turns his head back and kisses him.

It’s not ideal: the angle is awkward (his neck is definitely going to be sore later) and their lips are too dry from the wind and Steve’s stupid helmet is in the way.

But it’s still the best kiss of Steve’s life (and he’s had more experience than most people think), and he only pulls away when he can’t ignore the pain in his neck any longer.

“Oh god,” he gasps as the full impact of what he just did hits him. It was the adrenaline. It had to be the adrenaline. “I’m sorry –” he starts, but Bucky has already dismounted and come around to face Steve.

And before Steve can get another word out, Bucky pulls off Steve’s helmet, tosses it aside, takes Steve’s face in both his hands, and kisses him again.

Steve makes an embarrassingly high-pitched noise in the back of his throat, which Bucky answers with a low growl, and the kiss goes from gentle to almost desperate. Steve moves a hand to Bucky’s waist, clinging to a handful of his shirt, trying to ground himself as Bucky’s tongue runs along his bottom lip and Steve starts to lose himself in the sensation.

“My dad is going to kill you,” he murmurs, when Bucky finally pulls back slightly so they can both catch their breath.

“I don’t care,” Bucky growls, words vibrating against Steve’s lips. “Stop talking about your dad,” and then he kisses Steve again.

\-----

They don’t get back to Steve’s until almost six. Bucky walks Steve up to the front door, but when he leans in for a goodbye kiss, Steve pushes him away.

“My family can’t know about this,” he says. “Not my dad, and definitely not Clint.”

“Why not?” says Bucky, although he can guess.

“Because if Clint finds out about us, he’ll probably convince my dad he’s allowed to date Loki,” says Steve. “And nobody wants that.”

“I’m pretty sure Loki does,” Bucky says before he can stop himself.

“Yeah, well,” says Steve. “Look, I’ve gotta get inside before my dad calls out the search parties.” He squeezes Bucky’s shoulder. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure,” says Bucky.

He starts heading back to his bike, but hesitates. He should tell Steve about the deal he made with Loki. He knows he should.

“Steve!” he calls, and Steve turns, halfway inside.

“Yeah?”

But Bucky can’t do it. Not after the perfect day they just had together. He can’t bear wiping that fond smile off Steve’s face. He can’t bear Steve hating him.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Steve’s nods and shuts the door, still smiling, and Bucky morosely makes his way to his bike. He climbs on, distinctly aware of the lack of Steve’s warmth against his back. How the hell is he going to get out of this?


	8. Chapter 8

Loki is waiting for Bucky at school the next the morning, leaning against the locker next to Bucky’s in an arrogantly casual way Bucky finds nauseating.

“Well done,” says Loki, smirking.

“You here to give me a tip?” says Bucky. He focuses on twirling the lock dial back and forth so he doesn’t have to look at Loki.

“I’m here to give you your next assignment,” says Loki.

Bucky jerks the lock down too soon: it remains securely fastened and slips from his fingers. He swears under his breath and finally looks over at Loki.

“My what?” he snaps.

“After Saturday’s display, I have full confidence in your abilities,” says Loki.

“Hey, I did what you asked,” says Bucky. “You got what you wanted. I’m out.”

He goes back to twirling the lock dial.

“I got _part_ of what I wanted,” says Loki.

“It’s not my problem if Clint Fury won’t sleep with you,” says Bucky, _finally_ getting his locker open.

“Winter Formal is a week from next Saturday,” Loki continues as if Bucky hadn’t spoken. “I need you to take Steve so I can take Clint.”

Bucky pauses in his search for his Calculus textbook.

“Two weeks’ notice? Isn’t that a little late to be getting dates to the school dance?” he says, momentarily distracted.

“I’ll procure tickets for you, of course,” says Loki.

“I already told you,” says Bucky, going back to rummaging around in his locker, “I’m out. Done. Get someone else to play your sick game.”

“Impractical,” says Loki. “You’ve already laid the groundwork. I assure you, you’ll be well compensated, even after expenses.”

“I’m not interested,” says Bucky.

“How much to pique your interest?”

Bucky slams his locker shut and turns to face Loki.

“You could offer me a million bucks,” he says, “and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. I can tell you right now that Steve has absolutely no interest in going to some dumb school dance. And frankly, neither do I.”

“You don’t think you could persuade him with your… charms?” asks Loki, with just the hint of a sneer.

“Look, you’re wasting your time,” says Bucky. “Steve will never let Clint date you.”

Loki’s expression hardens.

“I don’t think it’s up to him,” he says.

Bucky laughs.

“Of course it is, you moron,” he says. “Clint can’t date until Steve dates. And that’ll never happen as long as you’re in the picture.”

“So you think his hatred for me outweighs any feelings he might have for you?” says Loki, his mouth twisting cruelly.

“Fuck you!” Bucky snarls because, yes, that’s exactly what he thinks, and it fucking _hurts_.

“No need to shout at me,” says Loki calmly. “I have much more faith in the purity of Steve’s feelings for you.”

“No!” says Bucky. “You’re not going to reverse psychology me into getting you a date to Winter Formal!”

_Pull yourself together, Barnes._

“You’re afraid of rejection,” says Loki, finally pushing himself off the locker. “I understand. You’re certainly not the conventional choice for someone like Steve Fury. I can see why you think he’d want to keep you as nothing more than his dirty little secret. But personally, I think you’re underselling yourself.”

He reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a wallet, and takes out several twenties, which he tucks into the breast pocket of Bucky’s jacket.

“I’m betting on you, Barnes,” he murmurs. He pats Bucky once on the chest before striding away, Bucky gaping after him.

\-----

Steve is greeted by wolf-whistles and catcalls the moment he walks into school.

“Ignore it,” he mutters to Clint after Clint elbows the jeering Justin Hammer in the face.

Clint just stalks off to find his friends in silence, ploughing through a group of giggling freshmen on his way.

It’s really no more than Steve was expecting. Tony got the video taken down in a matter of hours, but given the hundreds of people who’d already watched it – not to mention the large crowd that had witnessed the live performance – the damage had already been done, and Steve knows he just has to deal with it until something else catches his classmates’ attention. He really doesn’t mind that much. He’d rather have people mocking _him_ than someone who might not have people watching their back.

“Hey, Fury, how about a repeat of Saturday’s show?” calls Schmidt as soon as Steve walks into homeroom.

“Better idea: let’s take this outside and put on a different show,” says Steve, firing up because it’s _Schmidt_ , but someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck off while you have the chance,” Sam tells Schmidt.

“This isn’t over,” says Schmidt as Sam pulls Steve to the opposite side of the room.

“You bet it’s not,” Steve snaps.

Shaking his head, Sam pushes Steve into a chair and sits down beside him.

“So according to Clint, you guys went to Tony’s party with Bucky,” he says quietly. “You know, the guy who asked you out last week.”

“I know who Bucky is, yes,” says Steve, instantly on alert. He’s not totally sure he can trust Sam to keep his secret from Clint.

“And he got your idiot ass home after you almost gave yourself a heart attack,” Sam continues. It’s clear from his tone that he still hasn’t forgiven Steve for his reckless behavior.

“I don’t remember,” says Steve, which is mostly true. “How’d your interview go?”

Sam had been six hours away doing a college admissions interview over the weekend.

“I would have told you yesterday if you’d answered any of my sixteen calls,” says Sam. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, my phone was on silent,” Steve lies. In fact, he’d completely missed Sam’s first eleven calls because he’d accidentally left his phone at home when he’d gone out with Bucky. He’d deliberately ignored the five others because he knew his elation would inevitably bleed into his voice and then he’d have to admit to Sam that he was maybe kind of sort of dating the hot slacker from English.

“Okay, that’s clearly a lie,” says Sam. “Clint also said you disappeared most of yesterday.”

“I didn’t realize you and Clint were documenting my every move,” says Steve. “Anything I can do to make it easier for you? Send you minute-by-minute updates? Wear a tracking anklet?”

“That’s not an answer,” Sam points out, but Steve is saved from coming up with another deflection by Mr. Morita calling for silence, and as soon the announcements are over, Steve is out the door and halfway to class before Sam can start interrogating him again.

No one in French so much as raises an eyebrow at Steve after Pepper sits beside him and gives everyone else in the class a quelling look. But Justin Hammer spends most of Government leering at Steve and making suggestive comments (though each one garners fewer laughs and more consternated expressions from their classmates).

“I think Hammer was hitting on me,” says Steve when he meets up with Bucky outside English.

“You think a hammer… _what_?” says Bucky, frowning. He seems distracted.

“Justin Hammer,” Steve clarifies.

“Who?” says Bucky. He puts a hand on the back of Steve’s neck, letting a few fingers slip under the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, and squeezes slightly as they enter the classroom.

“Never mind,” says Steve. It’s occurred to him that Bucky is the kind of guy who probably won’t react well to other people hitting on his boyfriend, and the last thing he needs is Bucky getting possessive and giving them away.

Not that he’s Bucky’s boyfriend. Is he Bucky’s boyfriend? They should probably talk about that at some point.

“Am I allowed to come over tonight?” Bucky asks, sitting at the desk beside Steve that he claimed from Schmidt last week. He sounds a little annoyed.

“Yeah,” says Steve. “My dad has town meeting, and Clint’s going over to Jane’s, so the house will be empty.”

“Great,” says Bucky, his tone far from enthusiastic.

Steve pretends not to hear him. It’s clear Bucky doesn’t have younger siblings, because if he did, he’d understand why Steve has to protect Clint from his own stupidity.

“We’re not doing anything wrong, you know,” Bucky snaps after a minute or so of Steve carefully arranging his books so he won’t have to acknowledge Bucky’s deepening scowl.

“I never said we were,” says Steve.

“But you’re _acting_ like we are,” says Bucky. “What’s the deal? Are you scared of what people will think if they find out you’re dating the infamous Russian Assassin.”

“Of course not,” Steve hisses, stung. He glances around, but thankfully the classroom is still empty. “You know my reasons. Where is this coming from?”

“Nowhere,” Bucky mutters. “Forget it.”

Steve starts to respond but stops short when Schmidt slouches into the room.

“Plenty of tables in here, Fury,” he says, smirking.

“Yeah, plenty of hard surfaces to bash your face into,” says Bucky calmly. He places a hand on Steve’s knee, aborting Steve’s impulse to stand as Steve jerks away from the touch automatically. Bucky scowls again.

As other students begin streaming into the room, Steve sees Schmidt looking between him and Bucky, his face unreadable, and Steve’s stomach turns over. Schmidt doesn’t get to ruin _this_.

Bucky’s bad mood clears by the end of class, and he walks with Steve to the cafeteria, chatting cheerfully but not touching him, and Steve is almost relaxed enough to think about maybe brushing their hands together when he sees Sam coming toward them. His stomach turns over again.

“Hey!” says Sam, joining them at the doors of the cafeteria and clapping Bucky on the arm. “I’m Sam. We met at the track last week.”

“Yeah, I remember,” says Bucky. He glances at Steve, who shakes his head very slightly.

“Relax, Steve’s told me everything,” Sam totally lies, the asshole.

“Everything?” Bucky repeats, wincing as Steve steps on his foot.

Sam rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” he says. “I’ll get it out of you eventually. Let’s eat.”

Sam keeps sneaking glance at Steve and Bucky as they load their trays, but Steve ignores him, and thankfully Sam acts more or less normal as the three of them make their way to an empty table. 

Steve is just setting down his tray when he hears Schmidt call, “Hey, everyone, the entertainment’s arrived!”

The cafeteria erupts into catcalls.

“Right!” says Steve, whirling.

“ _There_ you are!” Tony Stark swings an arm around Steve’s neck, which is a pretty impressive feat considering Tony is several inches shorter than Steve. He pulls Steve around so his back is to Schmidt and most of the cafeteria. “We didn’t get a chance to catch up this weekend. Wilson, didn’t see you Saturday, what’s up?”

“Good, yeah, how’s it going?” says Sam, grinning.

“Volstagg, Hogun, push these tables together. Fandral, help me grab more chairs.”

Steve tries to turn in the direction of Sif’s commanding voice, but Tony has his head firmly locked into place. Tony steers Steve back to the table and deposits him next to Bucky before taking a seat next to Pepper, who inexplicably is sitting next to Sam. In fact, in the brief seconds Steve was trapped in Tony’s headlock, tables have been pushed against either side of Steve, Sam, and Bucky’s table, and every seat has been filled by either a friend of Tony’s or a member of the football team. Sam is sitting between Pepper and Maya, Bucky is fighting for elbow room with Volstagg, and Steve himself is inexplicably sharing tablespace with Thor.

“I’m pleased you’re doing better since Saturday’s unfortunate incident,” says Thor. “Jane assured me you were returned to health, but I’m relieved to see it with my own eyes.”

“Uh, thanks,” says Steve. He has no idea what’s happening.

“So, Barnes, doing anything fun this weekend?” says Tony from across the table. “Or maybe next weekend? Ow!” He frowns at Pepper, who Steve is pretty sure just kicked him under the table.

“Haven’t thought that far ahead,” says Bucky.

“Winter Formal’s in a couple weeks, isn’t it?” says Sam.

“Is it?” says Tony, with an affected innocence Steve’s pretty sure fools exactly no one. “Huh. Anyone here going?”

The football team breaks into loud noises of assent. Bruce and Rhodey roll their eyes good-naturedly. Pepper and Maya exchange exasperated looks.

“Nah,” says Sam, once the table has quieted down somewhat. “Haven’t been to one of those things since Riley left. My ex-boyfriend,” he adds, when Maya gives him a questioning look.

“That’s too bad,” says Pepper. “I’m sure we could find you someone.”

“It’s cool, I don’t mind,” says Sam.

“Obviously Fury won’t go,” says Tony. “What about you, Barnes?”

Bucky glances at Steve, who determinedly doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t think anyone I’d want to ask would go,” says Bucky.

Steve kicks him, but Bucky’s expression just hardens.

“Really?” says Tony, and he smirks at Steve in a way that’s far too knowing for Steve’s taste. “Don’t undersell yourself, buddy.”

Bucky’s face twitches but he says nothing.

The rest of lunch passes more or less pleasantly. Pepper manages to steer Tony’s attention away from Steve and Bucky, and Steve ends up spending most of lunch discussing Clint’s chances in the upcoming archery tournament with Thor. To his right, Bucky keeps laughing with Rhodey, while across the table, Sam is lost in conversation with Maya and Fandral, all thoughts of getting the truth about Steve and Bucky’s relationship forgotten. Steve’s still not sure why Tony, Thor, and their friends decided to join his lunch table, but he can’t pretend it isn’t a nice change.

When it happens again the next day, though, Steve starts to suspect it might be a distraction so Loki can get Clint on his own. But when he looks around the cafeteria he sees Loki at his usual table with Schmidt, Hammer, and Killian, and Clint on the opposite side of the room with Natasha, Jane, and Darcy, so he stops wasting time trying to figure out Tony’s motivations, and just sits back and enjoys it.

He can’t really begrudge his inexplicable newfound popularity. For one thing, Sam has connected with Fandral in a way he hasn’t with anybody since Riley, which means he’s too distracted to notice or care how much time Steve is spending with Bucky now.

And Bucky himself is a lot more pleasant to be around when he and Steve are surrounded by other people. Half the time they’re alone together – well, all right, they spend most of their alone time making out – but when they’re not, half the time Bucky is his usual relaxed, charming self. He tries to get Steve to draw him in ridiculous poses, lets Steve harass him into doing his English homework, and continues to teach Steve how to use his motorcycle with an absurd amount of patience.

The other half, though, he’s snappish and distant, no matter how many times Steve explains why they have to keep their relationship secret and Bucky claims to understand.

Bucky even suggests, after that first lunch with Tony, that they go to Winter Formal together, but Steve shoots down that idea at once, and Bucky doesn’t bring it up again.

“We’re not doing anything wrong, you know,” he says at least once a day, until Steve starts to think he might be trying to persuade _himself_ rather than Steve.

“I _know_ , okay?” Steve snaps after this has gone on for more than a week. Since Clint and Nick aren’t home yet, he and Bucky are curled up on the couch in the living room, flicking through Netflix. “It’s not about what _we’re_ doing. It’s about what _Clint_ will do.”

“Or maybe you’re just using Clint as an excuse to keep me your dirty little secret,” says Bucky, pulling away.

Steve gapes at him.

“My – how dare you!” he says. “I would never –”

“Never what? Keep me a secret from your best friend?” says Bucky, and yeah, that stings a little. “Do you really think so little of Sam that you don’t trust him to keep your secret? Or is it just me?”

“What do you mean, ‘just you’?” says Steve, and he’s not even really angry, just confused and a little hurt. “Where is this coming from?”

“Why don’t you just make this easier on both of us and admit you’re ashamed of dating someone like me!” says Bucky. He gets to his feet, glaring.

“Someone like you? What does that even mean?” Steve demands, standing too. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you. How can you even think that? You _know_ that’s not what this is about.”

“Then prove it!” says Bucky. “Admit to everyone we’re together!”

“Fuck you!” says Steve, and _now_ he’s angry. “I don’t have to prove anything!”

“Fine,” says Bucky. “Then I’ll get out of your way before I tarnish your reputation even more.”

“Good,” says Steve.

“Great!” says Bucky. He throws open the front door and nearly collides with Clint, who leaps out of the way with a yelp of surprise.

“What’s with him?” he asks Steve, shutting the door on the sound of Bucky’s motorcycle roaring away.

“I don’t know,” says Steve. Blood is still pounding in his ears. “Forget him. He won’t be coming around here anymore.”

“Are you serious?” Clint collapses on the couch dramatically. “ _Steeeeeeve._ I was counting on you to go to Winter Formal with him! It’s in two days! Now where are you going to get a date?”

Steve, still reeling from his fight with Bucky, is completely thrown by this.

“Go to – _what_?” he demands. “Why would you ever think I would let you go to Winter Formal with Loki?”

To his complete astonishment, Clint rolls his eyes and says, “Not with Loki. With Phil.”

“Who’s Phil?” asks Steve.

“Phil. Phil Coulson. _Phil_ ,” says Clint, as if this should explain everything.

Steve just shakes his head.

“He’s friends with Maria and Betty,” says Clint. “He’s new. _Phil_.”

“We’ve established his name is Phil,” says Steve, smiling slightly, but he can’t help feeling guilty. He’s been so caught up with truly getting to know Tony’s friends and, of course, Bucky, he suddenly realizes he has no idea what’s been going on in Clint’s life. “So why should I approve of Phil?”

“He’s friends with Maria and Betty,” Clint repeats, which is actually a better endorsement than Steve wants to admit. “And he drove me home after Tony’s party. And Nat approves. And I really, _really_ want to go to the dance with him!”

Steve sighs and sits beside Clint.

“I’m glad you’re done with Loki,” he says. “Really glad. But, Clint –”

“What have you possibly decided is wrong with Phil?” says Clint, glaring. “You don’t even know him!”

Instead of answering, Steve says, “Did you know Schmidt and I used to date?”

He doesn’t need to see Clint’s shocked expression to know that Clint did not know that. Steve and Schmidt have been nemeses for so long, Steve half-suspects even Sam doesn’t remember that brief period of insanity in Steve’s life.

“But you’d never date,” says Clint slowly. “We weren’t allowed.”

“I know,” says Steve, “and it didn’t last long. Just three weeks at the beginning of freshman year. I’d spent most of the summer in the hospital, remember?”

“You almost died,” says Clint.

“Right,” says Steve. “And Schmidt was new and he’d had a similar summer to me, so we bonded. And I won’t lie, it was fun sneaking around right under everyone’s noses, especially Dad’s.”

Clint giggles.

“So what happened?” he asks. He looks a little awed.

“He pressured me into doing a lot of things I regret,” says Steve.

“Gross!” cries Clint, looking revolted. “You had sex with _Schmidt_?”

“No,” says Steve, and he’s never been more happy to be telling the truth. “But we got close. And I realized being with him was turning me into someone I didn’t want to be.”

“How does no one know?” asks Clint. “I mean, you and Schmidt. That’s _huge_.”

“Let’s just say there are certain photos Schmidt wouldn’t want falling into, say, Tony’s hands,” says Steve.

“Gross!” says Clint again, making a face.

“Very,” Steve agrees. He and Clint grin at each other for a moment before he adds, “You think these things don’t matter, Clint, but they do. What happened between me and Schmidt, it was brief and I regret it, but it’s still part of me. I don’t want something like that to become part of you.”

“But that’s not for you to decide,” says Clint. “Even if your experience with Schmidt was terrible, you still got to have it! Do you seriously think it’s better for me to never experience anything for myself?”

“I just want to protect you,” says Steve.

“Trying to control my life isn’t protecting me,” says Clint. “Which you should know. It didn’t work when Dad tried to protect you.”

“Clint,” says Steve quietly, but Clint is already getting to his feet.

“You and Dad can’t keep me in a glass case forever, Steve,” he says. “At some point you have to let me do something on my own.”

“Clint!” Steve repeats, but Clint is already gone.

Steve lets his head fall back against the couch and reaches for his phone with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to update! Life had been crazy, and also the middle section just would not happen (which I think probably shows tbh, and I'm sorry about that; it's the best I could do). Anyway, as always, thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story, despite the long breaks between updates. I appreciate each and every one of you, and I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it!


	9. Chapter 9

Steve and Bucky have their first big fight Thursday night. By Friday morning, Bucky, who didn’t sleep at all, is telling himself it’s a good thing because at least it gets him out of the gross deal with Loki. (That doesn’t make the thought of Steve ignoring him through English any easier though.)

So he feels a weird mix of elation and dismay when he find Steve waiting for him at his locker.

“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have kept you a secret from Sam,” says Steve.

“No,” says Bucky, shaking his head. “I was an asshole. I knew that was the deal going in. I know your reasons, and I know they’re not personal.”

 _And I’m using you,_ he wishes he had the courage to add. _I’ve been using you this whole time._

“No, _I_ was the asshole” says Steve. “My reasons were stupid. But if you can live with the secrets one more day, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“One more day?” says Bucky.

“Kind of a deal I made with Clint,” says Steve. “I’ll explain later. But this is important: Go to Winter Formal with me?”

“Go to – _what_?” Bucky’s pretty sure he’s started hallucinating from lack of sleep because there’s no way _Steve Fury_ just asked _anyone_ , let alone Bucky, to go to a school dance with him.

“I know it’s last minute,” says Steve quickly. “And I’ll pay for you to rent a tux or – or you don’t even have to wear a tux, I don’t care if you go in jeans and your big, dumb combat boots, just – just go with me?”

He sounds so uncertain and looks so agonized and vulnerable that Bucky hears himself say, “Of course I will,” before he can actually think about it.

Steve’s entire face transforms as he goes from unsure to beaming in less than a second. Bucky has to hold onto his locker door to stop himself from kissing Steve right in the middle of the packed hallway.

“Thank you,” says Steve. “Seriously, thank you! I – I wish I could kiss you.”

Bucky can’t stop the smile that breaks across his face as Steve turns bright red.

“Me too,” he admits softly.

“Tomorrow,” says Steve, and it’s clear he’s trying to pretend he’s not embarrassed.

“Okay,” says Bucky.

“I have to get to homeroom,” says Steve. “See you in English?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” says Bucky.

He watches Steve stride off down the hallway, then finishes getting his books. He slams his locker shut and barely suppresses a shout.

“Well done, Barnes,” says Loki softly. “I told you I was betting on you.”

“Where did you come from?” Bucky demands. “Were you spying on me?”

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t keep an eye on my investment?” says Loki.

“This isn’t for you,” says Bucky. “I told you I didn’t want any part of this. You can have your money back.”

“You’ve earned it,” says Loki.

“I don’t _want_ it,” Bucky starts to say, but Loki is already gone.

\-----

“Dad?” Steve pokes his head into Nick’s office. Nick has left his desk for the night and retired to his leather recliner, from which he’s watching what Steve is pretty sure is _Independence Day_. Steve kind of wants to join him.

“Yeah?” says Nick, his eye not leaving the tv.

Steve tugs uncomfortably at the stupid bowtie Betty insisted he wear. That thing is going in the trash the second this dumb dance is over.

“I’m, uh, going to the school dance now,” says Steve. He’s not really sure how Nick will take this news, and so, like Tony’s party a few weeks ago, has put off having to tell him for as long as possible.

“Hilarious,” says Nick, still not looking at him.

Steve gives a nervous laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “But no, I’m serious, I really am going.”

“Uh-huh,” says Nick, and it’s clear he’s not listening to Steve at all. “Are you gonna stand there talking all night or are you gonna let me watch Will Smith kick some alien ass.”

“Um,” says Steve. “Bye, then.”

Nick just grunts as Steve shuts the door behind him.

Next, Steve checks on Clint, who’s pacing nervously in the living room. Like Steve, he’s wearing the suit he has for any official functions they have to attend with Nick. Unlike Steve, Clint gets to wear a normal skinny tie that Natasha bought him.

“It’s not too late to back out,” says Steve, smiling.

“Shut up,” says Clint. He pulls at his jacket.

“You look great,” Steve assures him. “I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you,” says Clint, but before Steve can retort he smiles slightly and adds, “Thanks. For doing this for me.”

“Had to let you out of the glass case sometime,” Steve says, and leaves to pick up Bucky.

\-----

A torturous ten minutes after Steve leaves, the doorbell rings, and Clint knows even before he opens the door that it has to be Phil because Phil is the only person Clint knows who would ring the doorbell instead of just walking in the house, because Phil is a gentleman.

Phil is stupid.

“Wow,” says Phil, and he looks great in an immaculate three-piece suit with a skinny periwinkle blue silk tie and matching pocket square that bring out his eyes perfectly.

“Yeah,” says Clint.

“Who is that?” Nick calls from his office.

“Just Phil,” Clint calls back, because no matter how bad the truth is, lying to Nick is worse.

Nick’s office door swings open. For a moment he stands in the doorway, looking from Clint to Phil and back again.

“What’s going on here?” he demands.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” says Phil immediately, stepping inside.

Phil is an idiot.

“It’s nice to meet me?” Nick repeats, narrowing his eye. He looks at Clint. “Explain.”

“Well,” says Clint, “Phil asked me to go to Winter Formal with him, and according to _your_ rule, since Steve’s going, I’m allowed to go too, so I said yes, and now Phil’s here to pick me up.”

“Steve’s going,” says Nick slowly.

“Did he not tell you?” says Clint innocently. “I thought I heard him saying goodbye to you earlier.”

Nick’s look of utter shock is the greatest thing Clint has ever seen in his entire life. He wishes he could take a picture for Natasha.

“So, bye, I guess,” says Clint, grabbing Phil’s hand and starting out the door.

“It’s an honor,” Phil starts to say, but Clint’s already shut the door in Nick’s face.

He’s probably going to pay for that later, but right now, he has some high school to experience.

\-----

When Clint and Phil get to the dance, nearly everyone else is already there. Darcy, Sif, Thor, and Jane are all crammed in the photobooth, while Natasha and Maria outshine everyone on the dancefloor. Without missing a step, Natasha steers Maria toward Clint and Phil.

“Hey, boys,” says Natasha, smiling. “Made it here in one piece, I see.”

“I’m totally dead when I get home,” says Clint. “But I don’t care.”

Phil beams at him.

“At least you’ll die in a great tie,” says Natasha.

“Have you seen Steve?” asks Clint. He’s still not convinced Steve will actually flaunt his relationship in front of the whole school.

Natasha and Maria both jerk their heads toward the center of the dancefloor.

“Holy. Shit,” says Clint.

Steve and Bucky are dancing so close together they look like they might share a body. But even more unbelievably, Steve is actually _smiling_. More than that – he looks like he’s having _fun_.

“Miracles happen,” says Maria.

“They really do,” says Phil, squeezing Clint’s hand, and that’s the only signal Clint needs to drag him onto the dancefloor.

For about half a song, everything is perfect. Clint’s got his arms around Phil and their bodies are pressed together and _god_ , it feels so great to be normal for once. He’s steeling himself to go for a kiss when –

“Get the hell off me!”

Clint pulls away from Phil to look around and immediately notices two things: 1) he and Phil have ended up way closer to Steve and Bucky than Clint is entirely comfortable with; and 2) Loki is trying to pull Bucky away from Steve and all three of them look pissed.

“I didn’t pay you so that some unknown plebian could bring Clint!” Loki snarls, loud enough for Clint to hear.

“Are you kidding me?” says Bucky to Loki, but Steve’s eyes snap to Bucky.

“ _What?_ ” he says. “What is he talking about?”

Clint notices with chagrin that by now most of the people within a couple-yard radius have stopped dancing to listen in

“Oh, please, you must have suspected,” says Loki dismissively.

“As if anyone would date you without an incentive, Fury,” adds Schmidt.

“Okay, you know what –” Bucky starts, but Steve holds him back.

“I don’t need _you_ to defend me,” says Steve coldly. “I don’t want you billing me later.”

Bucky’s expression goes from angry to shattered in a second.

“It’s not like that,” he says.

“Right.” Steve shoves Bucky aside and pushes his way through the crowd.

“Steve!” Bucky calls, starting after him, but Loki grabs his arm.

“We’re not finished,” says Loki.

“You bet we’re not,” snarls Bucky before shaking Loki off and disappearing after Steve.

Loki turns back to the dancefloor and catches Clint’s eye. He starts toward him, lip curling.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Clint demands.

“After all I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get?” says Loki.

“Done for him? You just humiliated his brother in front of the whole school,” says Phil.

“Please,” says Loki. “He’ll recover. Which is more than I can say for you and that slut, you vile, insignificant –”

Clint pulls his fist back, but Phil swings first. Loki stumbles back, expression shocked.

“You should watch your language,” says Phil calmly.

“Whoa!” says Darcy loudly from somewhere to Clint’s right. “I’m kind of turned on right now.”

“Me too,” says Clint, but much more quietly.

Phil smiles.

“You want to get out of here?” he asks.

“So much!” says Clint.

Screw being normal.

\-----

Steve’s almost made it to the parking lot when he hears running footsteps behind him.

“Steve! Wait!”

Steve whirls, shaking off Bucky’s outstretched hand.

“You don’t get to touch me!” he snarls, and Bucky takes a step back. “You were paid to take me out?”

“No!” says Bucky, stepping forward again, but Steve leans away.

“So you’re denying it?”

“No, I was, but –”

“That’s what I thought,” says Steve. “I _trusted_ you. And the whole time I was just, what, a paycheck?”

“It wasn’t like that!” says Bucky.

“Really? What was it like?”

“Okay, yes, it was about the money at first, but when I got to know you –”

“Fuck you!”

“Steve, please!”

But Steve isn’t listening because Bucky’s odd behavior over the past few weeks suddenly makes complete sense.

“ _We’re not doing anything wrong, you know,_ ” he echoes softly, and shakes his head. “Who were you trying to convince?”

“I wanted – I almost told you so many times,” says Bucky.

“But you _didn’t_!” And then a truly horrifying thought occurs to Steve. “Was everyone in on it?”

Bucky looks absolutely wretched.

“I – I don’t know,” he whispers.

“I don’t believe you,” says Steve.

“I can explain!” says Bucky desperately.

“No,” says Steve. “I don’t have to listen to whatever sick way you justified this to yourself. You _used_ me.”

“That’s not true,” says Bucky.

Steve shakes his head again.

“You’re just as bad as Loki. As _Schmidt_.”

“I’m not!” For the first time Bucky sounds angry, and that infuriates Steve more than anything else because _he’s_ the one who was violated, not Bucky. He’s the only one who gets to be outraged.

“Tell yourself whatever you want,” says Steve coldly. “It won’t change the fact you’re just like them.”

This time when he walks away, Bucky doesn’t follow him.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve turns off his phone as soon as he parks in front of his house. It hasn’t stopped ringing the whole way home and a cursory glance at the lock screen tells him his messages have exploded with worried texts from his so-called “friends”. He shuts it off before he can send out a mass text he’ll probably regret in the morning.

From the flickering lights coming from the office window, Steve guesses Nick’s still watching tv – or at least trying to watch tv while he worries about whatever Steve and Clint may or may not be getting up to at the dance – so after an unsuccessful attempt at the inconveniently locked sliding back door, Steve comes in through the garage, and after expertly navigating the squeaky stairs, makes it to his bedroom without Nick catching him. He can’t turn on any lights, of course, but it’s not like he needs to see to rip off his stupid suit (or carefully take it off and lay it neatly across the back of a chair because it’s expensive and Nick would kill him if he left it in a crumpled heap on his floor overnight or for any length of time at all; but he’d ripped off the stupid bowtie and tossed it on the ground in the school parking lot, so at least that’s something).

Once he’s in bed, though, he has nothing to distract him from what just happened. So that’s two out of two boyfriends that have turned out to be lying scumbags.

_Sure know how to pick ‘em, Steve._

And people actually wonder why he doesn’t want to date.

What he really can’t get past is Bucky’s expression when Steve had asked if everyone was in on it. He’d claimed he didn’t know, but Steve could see he at least suspected. Of course, if tonight proved anything, it’s that Steve is terrible at knowing when Bucky is lying.

 _God, was everyone really in on it? Even Sam?_ That thought is too horrible to even consider. He has no doubt Tony was involved, though.

Oh god, that’s why they’ve all been so nice to him the past few weeks: so they could watch their little charade up close. He doesn’t know who he’s angriest at: Loki and Schmidt or Tony’s gang or Bucky.

It’s Bucky. Definitely Bucky. At least Steve already knew the others were manipulative, lying assholes. Bucky was supposed to be different.

He lies awake for hours, trying – and failing – to think of anything else. He finally hears the front door open, followed by Clint and Nick’s indistinct but fairly loud voices. A few minutes later his room is flooded with light as someone throws open his bedroom door, but he keeps his eyes closed, and after a few seconds they seem to be satisfied that he’s asleep and his room is plunged into darkness again.

He must eventually fall asleep because the next time he opens his eyes, it’s bright outside. He’s clearly slept late. Not that it matters. He’s going to live in this room for the rest of his life. He’s never coming out. He can pee in a water bottle.

Okay, no, that’s too extreme.

On the way back from the bathroom, he passes Clint, who’s fully dressed and looks worried.

“Steve, I –” he starts.

“Not now,” says Steve, shutting his door in Clint’s face. He lies back down on the bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. He’s surprised Nick hasn’t come to chew him out yet.

Shockingly, Clint actually waits ten whole minutes before knocking softly on the door.

“Steve?” he calls. “Steve! It’s safe to come out. Dad’s off on a golf date. Steve? I’m coming in,” he adds finally, when Steve doesn’t respond.

Steve hears the door open but he doesn’t move. He feels the mattress shift as Clint sits on the foot of the bed.

“I didn’t know,” says Clint quietly.

Steve doesn’t answer.

“About Loki paying him,” Clint clarifies after a few seconds. “No one told me. I mean, I’m not stupid, I figured some of my friends had convinced Bucky to seduce you. But I had no idea he was getting paid.”

Steve stares up at the ceiling. He’s not going to cry in front of Clint. He’s not.

“I’m not an asshole,” Clint mutters.

Steve tries to swallow down the lump rising in his throat.

“I know, buddy,” he whispers.

The mattress shifts again as Clint slowly lies down next to Steve.

“I know I haven’t been a great brother,” Clint says.

“That’s not true,” says Steve automatically.

“Yes it is,” says Clint. “You were always in the hospital so much, and I was jealous of all the attention, yeah, but I – I was scared. That you would die. Like Mom.”

Steve rolls to face him.

“Clint –”

“It was easier if you hated me,” Clint says to the ceiling.

“You never said anything,” says Steve.

Clint laughs hollowly.

“You had enough to worry about,” he says.

“Hey, look at me,” says Steve. He waits until Clint does before continuing. “You’re my little brother. I’m always gonna worry about you. And I could never hate you.”

“You should,” says Clint, looking away again. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been so –”

“Don’t do that,” says Steve. “We go down that road, then it’s my fault for not being on your side when Dad changed the rule. But at the end of the day, _Bucky_ took the money. It was his choice. So don’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah, okay,” says Clint. “I still feel bad though. Do you want to come out with me and Phil today?”

Steve laughs, surprised he still can.

“Not even a little,” he says. “But it’s a really sweet offer, thank you.”

“If you’re sure,” says Clint. He rolls off the bed and stands. “Don’t forget we have dinner at the Starks’ tonight.”

Steve groans and sits up.

“Dammit, is that tonight already?” The very last person Steve wants to see right now is Tony Stark.

“First Sunday of the month,” says Clint, making a face. “Dad wants me to bring Phil.”

Steve laughs again.

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks,” says Clint. He pauses in the doorway. “For what it’s worth, Sam didn’t know either.”

“Are you sure?” Steve hates himself for asking but he has to know.

“Yeah, Nat told me he really laid into Tony after you took off,” says Clint.

“You didn’t see it?” says Steve.

“Phil and I didn’t really feel like sticking around after everything went down,” says Clint. “We just drove around and talked.”

“And made out,” Steve finishes, and Clint turns bright red.

“Anyway,” he says loudly. “You should call Sam. He’s really worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” says Steve. “Have fun on your date.”

\-----

Steve’s a little scared to turn on his phone. In addition to the flood of texts he received last night, he expects that by now he’s gotten dozens of texts and probably a few voicemails from Bucky, and he really isn’t in the mood to deal with that.

When he finally does scroll through his messages, however, he doesn’t find a single one from Bucky, audio or visual.

Which pretty much confirms the whole ‘ _asshole-only-in-it-for-the-money_ ’ thing.

He deletes all the texts from Tony’s friends and the football team without reading them (the previews tell him they’re all variations of _Are you okay?_ and _I’m here if you want to talk_ ). Aside from a six-hour gap during which Steve assumes Sam was sleeping, Sam has been texting every fifteen minutes since Steve took off last night, instructing Steve to call. Each message is more threatening than the last.

“Finally!” he snaps when Steve calls. “I’d have come over but Sara has the car. Are you okay?”

“No,” says Steve honestly. “Sam, everyone was in on it.”

“I wasn’t,” says Sam firmly.

“I know,” says Steve. “I just can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault everyone at Shield is an asshole,” says Sam.

“Yeah, but I fell for it,” says Steve. “And it was all a lie.”

“I’m not sure about that,” says Sam. “You left pretty early.”

“Can you blame me?” says Steve, irritated.

“Of course not,” says Sam. “But you missed a lot. Phil beating the shit out of Loki, for one.”

“That’s difficult to picture,” says Steve slowly.

Sam laughs.

“Dude’s a secret badass, trust me,” he says. “And then, um, Bucky and Schmidt got into it. Thor had to break them up.”

There’s a strange flutter in Steve’s stomach. He hates himself for it.

He hates Bucky more, though.

“So?” he snaps.

“So it was over,” says Sam. “You’d left. He didn’t have to –”

“Are you actually defending him?” Steve demands.

“No, I’m – no,” says Sam. “It’s just… it’s _Loki_. I doubt we have all the facts.”

“He was paid to date me,” says Steve. “He admitted that. That’s the only fact I need.”

“Okay,” says Sam. “I’m on your side, Steve. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” says Steve.

“You wanna grab dinner later?” asks Sam. “You have to drive.”

“I can’t,” says Steve. “Family dinner at the Starks’.”

Sam makes a noise of disgust that sums up Steve’s feelings about the situation perfectly.

“Kick Tony’s ass for me, okay?” he says.

“Already planning to,” says Steve.

\-----

Steve is so glad Clint is dating Phil. So, so glad.

Thanks to Phil, all attention has been directed away from Steve throughout dinner, which means so far Steve hasn’t had to answer any awkward questions about what happened at the dance.

And Phil has actually managed to hold his own, despite Nick, Howard, and Maria all but shining a light in his eyes. He’s surprisingly calm, charming, and thoughtful, and Steve kind of hates Clint for running around with Loki and then landing the perfect boyfriend while Steve got screwed over again.

Not that Clint’s the person at the table he’s mad at.

“Tony,” he says, when they’re about halfway through dessert. “I have a question about homework. Can we maybe go to your room and –”

“I’m sure you’ve got it,” says Tony quickly.

“I don’t, though,” says Steve.

“I don’t think I’m –” Tony starts.

“Tony,” Maria interrupts, frowning at him. “Don’t be rude! Steve asked for your help.” She smiles at Steve who smiles back.

“Sorry, Mom,” Tony mutters, pushing away from the table and glaring at Steve as he follows suit. “Come on, Steve.”

As soon as the door of Tony’s room shuts, Steve turns on him, glaring.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” he says, folding his arms across his chest.

“Nice stubble?” Tony tries, shrugging.

And yeah, Steve didn’t shave today, but after last night, he’s pretty sure he gets a pass.

“About what happened last night, you ass!” he snaps. “About Loki paying Bucky to date me!”

“If it helps, I was willing to do it for free,” says Tony, and it takes all of Steve’s considerable willpower to not punch him in his stupid smirking face.

“I knew you were in on it,” he mutters instead, shaking his head.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset,” says Tony.

“You don’t get – he was _paid_ to go out with me!” says Steve. “Paid! And you all knew! You _knew_ Loki hired me an escort so he could bang my brother and you _didn’t tell me_.”

“Okay, first of all, I would never let Loki touch little Fury,” says Tony. “I’m as protective of that kid as you are.”

“That is so not –”

“Okay, _almost_ as protective,” Tony amends. “You and your dad have the over-protective category pretty locked up.”

“That’s nice to hear,” says Steve. “But also not the point. You knew Bucky was being paid the whole time. What about protecting _me_? I… _did stuff_ with him, Tony!”

Tony snorts.

“Congratulations on becoming a man,” he says. “Better late than never.”

“You’re an asshole,” says Steve. “Do you know how dirty I feel?”

“Imagine how he feels,” says Tony.

“How he – are you serious?” says Steve, outraged. “I don’t give a shit how he feels! I hope he feels terrible! He lied to me!”

“I hear that after the initial payment, he tried to give the money back,” says Tony. “Loki just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s not – are you even listening to me?” says Steve. He’d expected Tony to try to pass off blame… but why is he trying to paint _Bucky_ as a good guy?

“Look, this conversation is way out of my area,” says Tony. “If you want, I can get Pepper over here, maybe Bruce –”

“I don’t want to talk to Pepper and Bruce,” says Steve. “I don’t want to talk to anyone.” He sits heavily on Tony’s bed. “I’ve been humiliated enough, thanks.”

Tony is silent. Finally, he sits beside Steve and says quietly, “I don’t think we meant for it to go this far. I know I didn’t.”

“That’s because you never think things through,” says Steve. “I don’t know what everyone else’s excuse is though. And you could have told me when things started going too far.”

“We talked about it,” says Tony. “I mean, the other guys more than me. But you both seemed so happy. Why would we want to ruin that?”

Steve sighs.

“But it was all a lie, Tony.”

“I already told you, we’re way out of my area,” says Tony. “But I don’t think all of it was a lie. And I don’t think you do either.”

“That’s pretty much what Sam said,” Steve admits.

“Yeah, well we all compared notes after you ran off last night,” says Tony. “Wanted to get our story straight. Kidding!” he adds quickly, when Steve glares. “Okay, too soon.”

Steve shakes his head.

“You’re going to keep hanging out with us, though, right?” says Tony. “Because Bruce and Rhodey have gotten kind of attached and I don’t know how I’d break it to –”

“I’m gonna need a couple days,” says Steve.

“I guess we deserve that,” says Tony. “What if everyone apologizes?”

“Literally the least you can do,” says Steve.

“What if we get –”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” says Steve. “Look, you guys got what you wanted: Clint is dating a great guy. Just stay out of my lovelife from now on, okay? No trying to get me back with Bucky, no setting me up –”

“And no paying people, got it,” says Tony.

“Definitely no paying people,” Steve agrees. “That goes for all of you.”

“What about kicking Loki’s ass?” Tony suggests.

“I heard Phil took care of that,” says Steve, smiling.

“Shockingly true,” says Tony. “But we can always do it again.”

“I’ll think about it,” says Steve.

“All I can ask,” says Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I made you wait so long for this chapter and then Steve is still mad at Bucky but I felt like these conversations needed to happen first. Thanks for sticking with this story even though I take forever to update! You're all amazing and I love you!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been over a month since I updated! I got a new job almost immediately after the last update and have been trying to get the hang of it. But here, finally, is the last chapter. No more waiting!

Steve lies awake all night running through dozens of different scenarios for when he encounters Bucky at school, from avoiding him to punching him in the face to shoving him up against a wall and –

No! He’s definitely not doing that one.

But as it turns out, all the speculation and preparation is pointless, because Bucky never shows up. Steve is on high alert all day, but he never sees a strand of that idiotically long hair, catches a whiff of that stupid leather jacket, or hears the clunk of those dumb combat boots. He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved.

Throughout the day, people come up to him and apologize. Thor accosts him the moment he arrives at his locker before homeroom.

“I’ve had words with my brother,” he begins, bypassing _good morning_. “I assure you, he has been dealt with.”

“Oh,” says Steve, startled. “Um, good?”

“Prior to the unfortunate incident at the dance, I had no knowledge of Loki’s scheme,” Thor continues. “If I had, I would have put a stop to it.”

“Oh,” says Steve again. “Well, thanks, Thor, I appreciate that.”

“I hope this hasn’t irreparably damaged our friendship,” says Thor with a troubled look.

“No,” says Steve quickly. “No, of course not. We’re fine. I appreciate you having my back.”

Thor grins and claps him on the shoulder so hard Steve stumbles into his locker.

Most of the football team, Steve learns over the next few hours, weren’t involved in the Bucky conspiracy. Even so, team members Steve’s never even spoken to – acting, Steve suspects, on Thor’s orders – apologize to him for not realizing what Loki was up to and stopping him. Steve assures them all that he doesn’t hold it against them, and finds himself promising to convince Sam that Fandral had nothing to do with it and Sam should definitely start talking to him again.

Tony’s and Clint’s friends have much more legitimate reasons to grovel.

“I think I gave Loki the idea to pay him, so yeah, sorry, my bad,” says Darcy, joining Steve and Sam at their old table in the corner of the cafeteria at lunch.

“ _Your bad_?” Steve repeats.

“In my defense, I didn’t expect it to work,” says Darcy.

“Which part?” asks Steve.

“I don’t know, all of it?” says Darcy, shrugging. “I didn’t think you’d actually date him. I wanted to use Thor. No one would have had to pay Thor.”

“I feel like you don’t really understand why Steve is upset,” says Sam, as Steve gapes at Darcy.

“Hey, I was totally pro telling him after like three days, but Nat said it’d just do more harm than good, so you know.” She shrugs. “I’d go back and do it differently if I could.”

Everyone else is at least slightly more remorseful than Darcy. Betty hugs him tearfully, Maria and Pepper look uncharacteristically ashamed, and Rhodey offers to kick Tony’s ass as an apology.

Only Natasha is unmoved.

“I’m not sorry for getting you out of your sad little bubble,” she says, leaning against the wall of the locker room as Steve and Sam change for practice. “Obviously the way it went down wasn’t ideal.”

“Understatement,” says Sam.

“And if I ever see Barnes again, I’ll kick his ass back to Russia for going dark after everything went down,” says Natasha. “But frankly, Fury, you were a damn sight more fun to have around these past couple weeks. Face it, you’re better off, whether or not Barnes ever shows his face around here again. And so is Clint. I’m sorry you got hurt, but overall I’d consider this a win.”

“The end doesn’t justify the means,” says Steve.

Before Natasha can retort, Coach Phillips arrives and kicks her out of the locker room.

The infuriating thing, though, Steve reflects as he warms up, is that Natasha’s not entirely wrong: If there’s one thing all the apologies have proved, it’s that he has more friends at Shield than just Sam… even if half of them were, until recently, keeping a massive secret from him. And while it’s too early to know if it’ll stick, Clint does seem a little more grounded since getting together with Phil.

Still, he’s sure there must have been a way to achieve the same result that wouldn’t have included public humiliation and heartbreak.

He doesn’t really know what to make of everyone’s determination to absolve Bucky of as much wrongdoing as possible. Pepper, Betty, Maria, Maya, and even Bruce reiterated Tony and Sam’s belief that Bucky’s feelings for Steve were genuine. Which was nice to hear, but Steve can’t help wondering if they only said that so he wouldn’t be quite so angry with them.

But the most confusing conversation Steve ends up having is with Jane.

“I don’t care that he’s your boyfriend’s brother,” he says when he finds her sitting on the hood of his car at the end of the day, before Jane can so much as say hello.

“I would never excuse Loki’s behavior,” says Jane, sliding gracefully from the car to her feet. “Do you know me at all?”

“I’m starting to think I don’t know anyone around here,” says Steve. He pops the trunk and tosses his backpack into it.

“And whose fault is that?” says Jane, keeping her eyes on him as he shuts the trunk and moves around to the driver’s door. “You don’t exactly make it easy, Steve.”

“So this is my fault?” Steve demands, turning on Jane with his hand on his unopened car door. “Did it ever occur to any of you that maybe I have my reasons? That maybe I don’t make it easy because when I do, shit like this happens?”

“Shit like what, someone actually wanting to be with you?” says Jane.

“Bucky _never_ wanted to be with me,” says Steve and immediately regrets it: it stings to say it aloud.

“Are you serious?” says Jane. “He was contracted to get you to Tony’s party, Steve. That’s _all_. He didn’t have to get your drunk ass home, and he certainly didn’t have to date you.”

Steve doesn’t know if that’s true or not, but he’s not sure it particularly matters.

“He didn’t have to lie to me, either,” he says, finally wrenching the car door open.

“I think it’s pretty clear he did,” says Jane, grabbing the door so Steve can’t pull it shut. “Look, forgive him, don’t forgive him, it’s up to you. But know what you’re forgiving him for, because it sure as hell isn’t lying about how he felt about you.”

Steve pauses in trying to pull his door closed.

“If it wasn’t a lie, then where is he now?” he demands.

Jane just shakes her head and lets go of his car.

“Exactly,” says Steve, and finally slams the door shut.

\-----

Bucky doesn’t come to school the rest of the week. Steve almost calls him a couple times a day, but always manages to stop himself in time.

Slowly, he integrates back into the Shield social scene: first hanging out with the football team before school (Sam’s back with Fandral); then sitting with Pepper in French and with Rhodey in Calculus; and finally, on Friday, joining Tony’s already bursting lunch table, where everyone welcomes him with such enthusiasm he almost forgets about Bucky for a few minutes.

“You should come over tomorrow,” says Tony, who Steve’s inexplicably ended up sitting next to. “My parents are heading out of town in the morning.”

“I think I’ve proven I’m not very good with parties,” says Steve. “But I’ll make sure Clint gets there.”

“Did I say anything about a party?” says Tony. “It’s just gonna be some of us hanging out. Thor will probably start a game of football; Darcy will kick everyone’s ass at Mario Kart. I think Natasha and little Fury have some kind of martial arts variation of Scrabble going on.”

Steve smiles despite himself.

“Yeah, Dad banned all board games from our house after they broke the coffee table,” he says.

“And you’re telling me you don’t miss that?” says Tony. “If that’s not your thing, I’m sure you could watch Betty and Maya blow something up.”

“Yes, I’m sure Betty and Maya will be the ones responsible for any explosions,” says Steve, but he’s still smiling.

“You’d be surprised,” says Tony.

“You realize you just described a party, right?” says Steve.

“Of course I didn’t, parties have booze,” says Tony.

Steve laughs.

“Oh, right,” he says. “Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t be good for me.”

“Yeah, lesson learned,” Tony agrees. “Look, everyone’s coming over around noon. Volstagg’s gonna fire up the grill, and if that doesn’t work out, I’ll order some pizzas. I’m pretty sure even Wilson’s coming. Just swing by.”

“I’ll think about it,” says Steve.

“If it helps, Loki and his unhappy hipsters are banned from Casa de Stark,” says Tony.

“You didn’t have to do that,” says Steve.

“Oh, it’s not for you,” says Tony. “I haven’t finished upgrading JARVIS since Killian broke through my system last month. Besides, this isn’t an open house. Friends only. So you in?”

Steve frowns. “No ulterior motives this time?”

“None whatsoever,” Tony promises.

Oddly, Steve finds he believes him.

\-----

The doorbell rings just before ten the next morning.

“I’LL GET IT!” Clint screams, more or less falling down the stairs in his eagerness to get to the front door. “It’s Phil,” he explains as he hobbles past Steve, who’s eating cereal out of a mug in the living room. “We’re gonna grab breakfast before going to Tony’s. See you there?”

“Sure,” says Steve, still half-asleep and not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to.

He hears Clint throw open the front door.

“Hi, just a sec, I just need to… oh,” Clint’s tone abruptly changes from excited to guarded. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Steve?”

The familiar voice makes Steve’s stomach drop. He sits up, instantly alert, appetite gone.

“He’s not available,” says Clint coldly.

“Clint, please.” The desperation in Bucky’s voice is palpable. “I really need to see him.”

“You’ve had a week to see him, asshole!” Clint snaps. “Remember school? That place where you publicly humiliated him?”

“That was never my intention,” says Bucky.

“Yeah, well–” Clint begins hotly, but he’s cut off as Steve emerges from the living room and Bucky makes an aborted move toward him.

“It’s okay, Clint,” says Steve quietly. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure? I can get rid of him for you,” says Clint. He keeps his eyes on Bucky, his expression hard and fists clenched.

“I’ve got it,” says Steve. Past Bucky, he can see Phil pulling into the driveway. “Phil’s here.”

“He can wait,” says Clint. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m good,” says Steve. “Go have fun, buddy. I’ll meet you at Tony’s.”

“Okay,” says Clint reluctantly. He edges around Bucky, glaring the whole time.

“Well, come in,” says Steve, turning around and heading back toward the living room without waiting to see if Bucky follows him. “Lucky for you, my dad’s not home. Of course, he doesn’t actually know what you did to me. Also lucky for you. He’d kill you for sure.”

He’s surprised at how detached he manages to sound.

“I’m kind of shocked your brother didn’t kill me just now,” says Bucky, with a brave attempt at bravado.

Steve gives a humorless laugh.

“He is his father’s son,” he says. He finally turns to face Bucky. “Why are you here?”

“I – I wanted to see you,” says Bucky uncertainly.

“Uh-huh.” Steve folds his arms across his chest: He’s not about to give Bucky an inch. “Well, like Clint said, you had a week to see me.”

“I – it’s complicated,” says Bucky.

“Like lying-to-me-for-weeks complicated?” asks Steve.

Bucky drops the sports bag he has slung over one shoulder onto the floor.

“I came here straight from the airport,” he says. “I was in Canada with my dad.”

“And you couldn’t afford twenty-five cents to text me and tell me that?” says Steve. “I heard you had a windfall recently.”

“My dad lives in the mountains,” says Bucky, ignoring the jab. “It’s pretty remote. No internet and really limited phone reception.”

“And I guess letting me know before you left the country was out of the question,” says Steve.

“You said you didn’t want to see me,” says Bucky.

“And yet here you are,” says Steve.

“What do you want from me?” says Bucky.

“The truth,” says Steve.

“I’m here because I want to apologize,” says Bucky.

“Okay, so apologize,” says Steve. “But for what, exactly? For dating me under false pretenses? For humiliating me in front of the entire school? For leaving me hanging for _a week_ without so much as a text and then showing up on my doorstep with no warning? Or are you just sorry I found out at all?”

“Yes,” says Bucky. “All of that. I’m sorry about all of it.”

He looks so sincere and so wretched that Steve has to turn away.

“Anyway,” says Bucky to Steve’s back. “I just wanted you to know that before… Look, I’m moving in with my dad, so after this you never have to see me again.”

Wait, _what_?

Steve turns around.

“Is that really what you think I want?” he says quietly.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, looking miserable.

“I don’t know what you want, Steve,” he says. “I just know I can’t stand seeing you every day knowing you hate me.”

“I don’t,” says Steve softly.

“What?” says Bucky.

“I don’t hate you,” says Steve. “I just don’t understand why you did it.”

Bucky gives a bleak little laugh.

“Neither do I,” he says. “I think maybe I just wanted to an excuse to ask you out. Or maybe I didn’t expect to fall for you at all. I know I didn’t expect you to fall for me.”

“Who says I fell for you?” says Steve, a little too quickly.

Bucky’s face twitches, and Steve feels a tiny pang.

“Was any of it real?” asks Steve.

“Steve,” says Bucky softly, “it was _all_ real. Yes, the way it started was shitty. But I never lied about how I felt. I know I’ve handled this situation horribly, and yes, I’m an asshole, but I’m an asshole who’s in love with you. I love you, Steve, and I want you to be happy. And if that means I have to move to another country, then –”

Steve isn’t aware of deciding to do anything, but the next thing he knows, he’s shoved Bucky against the wall and Bucky is kissing him back with such aching desperation that Steve can’t quite remember why he was so angry with Bucky in the first place.

“You move to Canada, I’ll follow you up there and kill you myself and make it look like an accident,” he gasps when they finally break apart. “I’m my father’s son too, you know.”

“You really need to stop talking about your dad when we make out,” says Bucky breathlessly, and Steve laughs, suddenly giddy.

“Oh, hey,” says Bucky, pulling away from Steve and moving to his forgotten bag. “I got you something.”

“You did?” Steve’s still not entirely sure what’s happened. Did he forgive Bucky? He thinks he probably did.

“Yeah, hang on.” Bucky rifles through his bag and finally pulls out a large paper bag. “Sorry, I didn’t have anything to wrap it with,” he says, handing the bag to Steve.

Curiously, Steve opens the bag and pulls out a gorgeous, canvas-bound sketchbook.

“Do you like it?” asks Bucky nervously.

“It’s beautiful,” Steve breathes. “It’s perfect. Really, Bucky, thank you.”

“It’s entirely selfish,” says Bucky. “I just really wanted you to have something you could use to draw me like one of your French girls.”

For a second Bucky looks terrified that he’s gone too far. Then Steve starts to laugh.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “Let’s work up to that. For now, I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we cancel your moving plans, and then grab some breakfast and head over to Tony’s?”

“To Tony’s?” Bucky repeats.

“Yeah,” says Steve. “I hear he’s having a get-together today.”

“You know that means there’ll be people there, right?” says Bucky. “People who will see us together?”

“That’s the idea,” says Steve. He takes Bucky’s hand. “You don’t get a hot boyfriend if you’re not gonna show him off, do you?”

Bucky’s smile is practically blinding.

“No,” he says, squeezing Steve’s hand. “I guess you don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after (probably). :D
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you for taking this journey with me. I've loved getting your feedback over the past few months. Writing this story was so much fun, even if I did do it really slowly. I hope you all enjoyed it even half as much as I enjoyed writing it. I appreciate each and every one of you for taking the time to read this story, especially if you took the time to leave kudos or comments.
> 
> ♥♥♥


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